


pedigree shelter mutt

by reincarnivore



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Heavy BDSM, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Master/Pet, Medical Inaccuracies, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sexual Slavery, Trans Male Character, ansem's wild addiction to buttholes, like a lot more pee talk than maybe a normal person would enjoy, tags will be updated as content is written as i do not know entirely where this is going, use of the word 'cunt' to describe the vagina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reincarnivore/pseuds/reincarnivore
Summary: riku is a lost gen z in an unkind world. he's never been good at making decisions. but he definitely realizes too late that going home with a strange woman was probably a mistake. however, he continues to double down on his mistakes endlessly. this is riku's very bad no good time with vampire daddy who is very sexually charged. ansem takes his new prized pet to groom him exactly the way he'd like him to look, but still allows him to act like the 'dog' he is.(tags will be added, so as always, look for tw at each chapter upload. more defined tws can be found at the beginning of each chapter applicable of warnings, and feel free to tell me to tag anything i might've missed. this is porn with plot, but it is still more horny than it is not. )
Relationships: Ansem Seeker of Darkness | Xehanort's Heartless/Riku, Naminé & Riku (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sfw  
> tw; self-harm in the form of starvation and over exercise, kidnapping.

Riku’s not sure how he’s gotten to this point in his life.

It makes sense when a teenager runs away from home- it’s honestly a requirement of growing up. However, maybe you walk a couple good hours away from home before your belligerent mother screeches at you from her mercedes-benz to ‘get in the fucking car’; once or twice an overworked cop coaxes you into his back seat with a promise of a quiet ride home. You never really get into trouble, but maybe you should have. Could have built up a sense of stranger danger.

But a freshly moved-out 18 year old has no mother to berate him. A fresh, raw break-up on his mind, and three days later he’s still walking out in the countryside; tired, hungry and pathetically dehydrated. It wasn’t even that it was particularly hot that day. The mistake is the fact he hadn’t stayed within town limits where things like purchasable food and water would be, and it hadn’t occurred to him when he’d turned down the road out of town that there were no luxurious out here except silence. Or, mostly silence. Cars drive by without slowing down, spitting sand and dust in their wake while Riku chokes and waves a hand about his face to find a clear breath of air. Even when the anxiety of being lost out here started to creep on him, no one even slowed down to spare him a glance. Which is fair, and valid- he looks like some dirty vagrant, a backpack haphazardly slung over his shoulder, empty now, of course. But he carries it to seem less like an insane person walking around the countryside without a cause. His phone had died sometime last night while he slept uncomfortably beneath some bushes in the ditch- though he’d turned it on silent the night he’d walked out his shared townhouse door. Even as his steps drag deep and slow into the dirt while he walked to nowhere, Riku couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the faces behind that shut door. Hear their voices. 

He’s not sure when he exactly sat down, other than one moment he’s thinking about how he might be thirsty enough to drink piss, and the next he’s folded over his knees in the gravel road’s shoulder. A little lump on the road, he thinks, and surely mistaken for some mangy coyote limping to its death- all the cars pass by, but surely one will pull over. To hit him, of course, to put a mangy coyote out of its misery. The clouds hang low in the sky, thick with humidity, but the rain refuses to greet his dry throat. This would be an incredibly weird way to die. Riku supposes his mother was right, then- that he would be absolutely useless without her constant verbal abuse- nagging. Just nagging, always. It’s unfortunately very easy to focus on the reason why he was walking into the countryside without intent when he stops walking and the soreness of his feet and legs even barely subsides. Thankfully, somehow thankfully, the blood starts to pool in his overused limbs and it absolutely _pulses_ discomfort, a radiating pain that makes it hard to breathe. Well, that or the dust filling the air. Dust?

He barely looks over his shoulder just in time to see a car pull up beside him in the ditch he was wallowing. So many cars had come and gone, Riku hadn’t even registered the vehicle engine roaring, spitting gravel in its wake. He’s not even entirely sure he isn’t hallucinating, staring into bright headlights burning a hole through the back of his head. He expects them to slam into him any moment now.

“Oh you poor thing,” a rough, effeminate voice hits his ears moments after the creak of a car door he can’t see. “Young man- how did you possibly get all the way out here? Did some cruel thing dump you out of their car like a little stray puppy?”

It takes Riku a very long moment to parse what the fuck was just said to him, slowly looking up to a backlit figure looming beside her vehicle, but the headlights are too blinding to parse her expression, just the barest hints of eyes reflecting her half lidded gaze. She stands there and waits patiently for a reply, however, apparently unwilling to just leave him. “No, I walked here.” voice raw with disuse and thirst, Riku can’t think of anything else to say but honestly reply to her question.

“I- you, you _walked_ here? Where do you live- surely not any of the acreages or farms around here, or surely I would know you.” She approaches from around her car hood now, sharp nail dragging softly across shiny, black paint. When she stops at his back, she taps a nail against the metal, still waiting.

He still can’t entirely make out her features, though her gaze seems to bleed in through the blaring yellow headlights in his, now, periphery. “No, I’m from town.”

Her eyes narrow discerningly down at him, but he’s been stared down so often it hardly matters. “.. Quite _lost_ , aren't you _?”_

Something about her tone makes him think she means something other than being physically lost- which he also totally is. Since his phone died, he was without a map, but was admittedly never looking at it even when his phone was on. The other kind of ‘lost’, though, Riku has to stop and think about it for a long while. Despite her outward tone and appearance, the gentle tapping of a nearly clawed index finger clicks like a ticking clock. “I guess so,” is all he can manage to answer, his tired gaze slowly falling to the overgrown grass sneaking into his pant legs and tickling his legs. Across the ditch, there’s a wide, open field of wheat, and there’s an almost undeniable urge to thrust himself onto his feet and sprint out into it. A feeling like he probably should be running- but running from exactly what? Whatever this woman represented in his current psyche? “But I’m not about to beg for a ride back home,” he adds, releasing the death grip he had on his folded up legs to wave a dismissive hand.

“Well, I shan't make you beg then. Up on your feet- I’m not interested in letting you leave your corpse to rot away in the ditch. People will _come looking_ ,” she speaks in a playful tone despite the subject matter. She grips a hand around his shoulder, but Riku manages to deny the urge to tear it off him. Unlike his memories, however, the stranger’s grip truly is nothing more than to get his attention- and when she offers further to help him up on his legs, she is nothing more than assistance to stand. No needle nails pressed into bloodied skin. No shrilling in his ear. 

Once he’s standing and there aren't headlights directly in his face, he gets a good look at her face. Her age is indiscernible- not old or young, but sharp-featured. Heavy, dark lines frame her eyes immaculately, her gaze a peacock green that explained how she was managing to look through the shadow of the headlights earlier. Her face is framed with similarly iridescent black hair, two awkward tufts peaking up at either side like little horns. Riku can’t help but swallow rough in his throat, though there’s no saliva to make the motion anything but uncomfortable. “I’m-” he stutters, “I’m really fine, honestly.”

“You cannot hide the fact you both look, sound and, eugh, _smell_ , like you’re about to collapse and die.” Though her grip is not sharp, it is strong, but Riku equally does not resist when she starts to tug him towards the passenger side.

“Well, don’t put me in the front seat if I smell _that_ bad,” he tries to joke, stumbling in the gravel- but wow, her grip really does not let up, easily hefting him back to standing.

Opening the door with her opposite hand, “Oh, don’t worry about that. I jest, truly,” and she does sound like she is, as little as her tone changes. 

If he felt bad about apparently stinking up her car before he gets in it, Riku absolutely wallows sitting sweaty, dirt-caked and sore in her untouched leather seats. Weirdly, though, it smells nothing like ‘new car’, and more like… campfire, a deep burned-in wood scent that permeates and overwhelms his senses. Don’t worry, she said- and apparently meant, because he really can’t smell anything but burnt ash now. Time skips ahead again when he apparently lidded his eyes in exhaustion, but there’s a bottle of lukewarm water on his lap now. “Th-, thank you,” he mumbles, trying not to look so desperate when he opens it- but before he can chug, she snags the bottom and tugs it away from his lips.

“Do not simply _chug_ that, or you will surely vomit- and that, I will not excuse.” God, she’s already in the driver’s seat, still staring at him, but with that outstretched arm, hand gripped around the bottle bottle. Slowly, she upturns it into his mouth, forcing him to drink at her own pace, and she seems to… relish, in how immediately he relinquishes his power to even drink himself. Once he seems less desperate, she even pulls it back, and stops him when his mouth opens to speak, “Do not bother apologizing.”

Which is… easier said than done. He’s used to over apologizing. He’s used to getting more yelled at than this. “Ah… okay,” is all he seems to manage before his eyes drift to the road ahead of them. It’s moving now, and the gravel rattles his bones. 

Since he does not drift to sleep immediately, the woman deigns to ask, “And might I have your name, little lost puppy?”

“Mnn,” he doesn’t appreciate the nickname, but he did not give her a name, so, “Riku.”

“Oh, that is very cute,” she laughs, a little more darkly than Riku would expect or prefer.

“What’s your name?” 

“Are you asking because you think that’s proper, or because you’d actually like to know?” She still waits so very patiently while he parses her words, but that index nail is clicking against her stick shift. 

“Well, if you drop me off at the edge of town and we never speak of this again, then I guess I don’t have to know your name.”

“This is true- but you honestly do not know where you are?”

“No, my phone died yesterday.” Slowly, he looks out his window, but the clouds and the twilight sun have bled into darkness. There’s the halo of the headlights illuminating the immediate grass whipping past, but not much else. “Every wheat field looks the same.”

“Well, _that_ is not wheat…” She hums, not explaining at all what she meant by the previous statement.

A thought, though, they’re heading in the direction he was walking, and he hadn’t remembered taking any turns. Of course, he has been drifting in and out of coherent consciousness, so maybe they had turned around, but she’s kind of implying they hadn’t. “I really can’t be surprised that a strange woman in the woods with a fancy car isn’t also very ominous.”

“Oh, pshh,” she flicks a dismissive hand, offering him a sidelong, malicious grin. “It would be very much worse if I was driving some, beat up pickup truck.”

“No, because then I probably would have ran into the field when I was thinking about it.” And no denial. Riku had been courted a few times by filthy old men while walking alone downtown, but apparently he had forgotten everything once he was out of city limits. Admittedly, this woman was the physical antithesis of a disgusting pervert, but Riku had heard sometimes of trafficking being hidden behind a pretty face.

“Ohh, you were woo’ed by my fancy wheels, were you?” She spares him the barest glance to gauge his response to implications of kidnapping, but is surprised to see him, well.

“A little…. A lot.” Desperately, Riku wishes he had any energy to be panicked, but instead he’s just woefully tired. He’s resting his head on the window before he can comprehend it, the uneven road still jostling every inch of his bones. When he speaks again, minutes have passed, and the woman nearly startles having more than thought he’d drifted lastingly unconscious. “Do you make up for the fancy car by having a beat-up old torture shed out in bumfuck nowhere?”

“No no, dear puppy, the house is also quite fancy.”

“Nice,” he nods, eyes still lidded. A dog sits in a burning room and says ‘this is fine’.

“You truly do not care to implications here. Do you think I am joking?” With a curious tone, again she looks at him, but he’s busy looking asleep. As he keeps speaking, however, he is awake.

“I could spare you some screaming and crying if you’d like.”

“No thank you, I _much_ prefer this. No struggling, no tying you up and stuffing you in the trunk.”

“I bet it’s a nice trunk.”

“Well, _not anymore._ ”

“Lady, no, I genuinely cannot tell if you’re still joking or if you’re actually kidnapping me.”

“Well, does that not seem the preferable way to kidnap someone? Alas-perhaps not,” she sighs heavily, “I am bringing you home- you look quite on death's door, and the Master of my current estate is a medical practitioner. I could drive you to the city and drop you off at some clinic, but that would put some level of onus on me to exist and be perceived.”

Riku exhales a laugh, reaching a tired hand up to rub the underside of his jaw. “Well, that sounded more like a lie than what you were saying before.”

“I assure you, I do not lie,” she replies matter-of-factly, reaching over to tug at an errant string of Riku’s hair.

Somehow, he manages not to squirm away from her touch. “Well, I have no reason not to believe you.”

“And are you usually that naive?”

“I think it’s less naivety and more blind pessimism.”

“Ah- then it is no matter to you whether I am bringing you to death or salvation?”

“I guess so.”

“This will be a very… fulfilling situation for you in the end, then,” she hums, rolling her shoulders idly. Again, she expects him to look up to that statement, but his head is still busy knocking against the glass, eyes lidded. Greasy hair all over the window. Since he doesn’t answer again, she lets it fall back into silence. Ten more minutes to sleep and enjoy your life, little puppy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; iv drugs, saline drips, bone injury, non-consensual touching.

She was not lying- as she said she wouldn’t. When they pull up to the house, Riku is jostled awake when the gravel transitions to a smooth driveway, and then all motion comes to a stop. A floodlight kicks on from the movement, and he spies out his bleary eyes a huge, elegant, ivory and bronze coloured estate surrounded by an immaculate garden. The rain was just sprinkling, for the moment, which would be handy for getting inside without getting too soaked, but he just can’t seem to get his legs to move. Or his entire body, really. Something oppresses his senses even worse than his weariness, though he does desperately cling to consciousness. The woman is walking past and towards the house before he even comprehends the car door shutting beside him, and he’s left alone for far longer than he would prefer. Then again, he’s fairly certain this woman has, in fact, kidnapped him, for what reason he’ll be finding out soon. 

The next moment he recalls being awake, he’s being propped up from falling out of the passenger’s seat by someone _much larger_ than the strange woman. Without thinking, Riku’s eyes jolt open, arms flinging out at the sudden lack of balance and clinging onto someone else’s damp clothes, and the unseen person hefts him up over his shoulder with a firm command, “Steady.” His voice rocks the air like the thunder distantly chiming the coming storm in the distance, and Riku cannot help but let himself lay prone against the man’s shoulder. It is, unfortunately, wetter up here than in the car, and there is an immediate shiver he cannot subside from even the small amount of rain dripping down his neck. As they step inside, an equally cold hand creeps up the small of his back beneath his shirt as the man readjusts to sit him down on an unseen couch. The only light that creeps inside is from that floodlight outside filtering through tiny cracks in heavy curtains, until they flick off as well, and Riku is left in a veritable darkness. 

“You’ve brought me some half dead thing,” the man rumbles, and Riku can only assume this is directed at the woman. As much as he wants to listen to the conversation, though, the couch is _incredibly_ comfortable right now, and he’s wet and cold and still so thirsty and tired, and, and,

They watch in a moment’s silence as her gift slowly slumps over on the couch with a dull thud. “Do you think me useless, Ansem? Just some sad cur that brings you table scraps like an eager slave?” She seems to hold zero fear to his commanding tone, but is keeping a moderate distance. “Smell him first before you shrill further.”

“All I scent from him is a human unwashed for several days,” he waves a hand over his face- the smell is lingering on his shirt from even from the small time he’d spent propped up on his shoulder.

“.. Well, I did find him wandering the back roads like a vagrant- but I assure you, beneath the grime is a luster. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

“I mean, you’ve never brought me an _entirely_ useless meal, but things do change…”

“I should _burn you alive, wretched ungrateful thing_ ,” the woman hisses, but they’re both more than aware this is two great, powerful things snapping and barking at each other with no intentions otherwise; joking meant something different to immortal and ancient. “This one has a demeanor like a beaten dog. Instead of explaining, I think you might enjoy seeing that belly for yourself.”

“Beaten dogs do sometimes bite,” the man rumbles, looming over his offered prey. His amber eyes glow faintly in the darkness, but his treat is rendered unconscious by his self-imposed illness. “I cannot eat him as he lays here, or surely I will learn nothing of this demeanor you speak of.”

“Well, then it is your choice to forgo the formality of knowing him before death or to coddle your meat before you bleed it. If I had rather found him a day or two ago when he was in less dire straits, he did admit in better judgement he would have ran from me. ”

He shrugs, leaning down to brush an unruly strand of platinum bangs from the young man’s sweat slicked face. His pale skin seems even more pallid than usual, dark circles beneath straining eyelids. “Suppose I have not _coddled_ in a long while, and it was fun while it lasted when last I had. I do not completely forgo your judgement, friend,” he offers her the barest glance and downward tuck of an appreciative head. “A fine meal or a fine pet are equally to me in value.”

“Since I’ve never heard you even mumble to keep a pet, I feel like you’ve seen something you like more than usual,” she exhales a laugh, approaching now that she’s definitely secured his good will. Looking down at him, yes, she agrees that the puppy is more than just a cute face. Though his cute face is also a massive selling point. 

“Well, seen, and what you’ve said. To be shallow, though- his looks are quite astounding. Did you see this soft thing on the roadside and pull over like a star-struck child?”

“Hardly,” she scoffs, “I saw him curled up on himself like a wounded animal on the side of the road. He stared at the headlights as I pulled over like he expected me to simply run him down as such.”

“Fascinating,” the man rumbles with keen interest, still staring down at his offered prize while it, _he_ , wheezes uncomfortably in his sleep. Crouching down, the stranger presses his ear to chest, listening to the laboured breathing, but still a steady heartbeat thumps against his ribs. “You’ve still brought me quite the dirty little mutt, so do me the honor of actually preparing this gift for me, while I go decide what fun I would like to have with him tonight.”

Though a myriad of distasteful noises escape her at his dismissal, she does as she is asked- and supposes it is fair for her to make her prize look as shiny and new as possible. 

Though Riku can faintly tell he is being moved, something even more than his exhaustion keeps his mind muddied beyond conscious. Each time he is lifted, however, he’s set down with equal care despite his limp body, even as he occasionally rouses enough effort to stiffen a limb out in protest, his throat grumbling a sour note to object. That is, until he goes from being cold, to very warm- so comfortably warm, slipping down into sleep until there’s water gurgling up his nose. Riku comprehends a quiet ‘oops’ before he’s roused completely conscious, his legs kicking into the bottom of the tub until he pushes too hard and slams his head into the opposite wall. “YoU-” there’s a sudden shrilling from the strange woman as he flails himself nearly out of the tub, but once he recognizes the voice, Riku slowly sinks back into the warm, soothing water. There’s a new pain radiating from the back of his skull, though. “... What was that little performance for!”

“I was drowning,” he hisses back at her, throat hoarse. His mouth is barely above the water now, sleep bleary eyes peering around a deep, black granite bathroom. The tub he’s laid in is huge, which is why he managed to slip down into water in the first place. Bubbles tickle his nose, a soft vanilla scent, and he’s up on his tippy toes just to get his face out of water. “... what is even happening.”

“I did tell you you smelled terribly,” she remarks idly, reaching up to a hanging towel rack to idly dab drips of water off her face, and then the floor where soap bubbles had sloshed over the side. She’s still dressed, an elegant but otherwise unassuming black dress, but her sleeves are pulled up high past her elbows. Of course, his flailing still managed to find her wet, but having stood in the rain earlier, she’s not unfamiliar with moisture. 

A red is flushing across his cheeks at the thought of what _he’s_ wearing, though. Which, of course, is nothing. Though there’s a thin layer of bubbles at the surface, nothing is hidden. His arms fold against his chest uncomfortably, “Why am I naked.” A very quick glance provides him with no visual on his clothes. But, he supposes they’re dirty, and they’re probably out being washed like he was.

“... You… expect me to bath you in your clothes?” The look he gives him is so dry and just that barest hint confused.

With legs crossing the same way his arms were, his head sinks further into the tub. “As a grown ass adult man, I don’t really expect to be... _bathed_.”

“Well, as unconscious and pungent as you were,” she scoffs, “the options were quite limited against the favour of your preferences. Do keep your sensibilities in order- I am unconcerned with your body.”

Looking down at himself, Riku mumbles, “... I should be happy about that, but kinda hurts my feelings.” Now, he doesn’t assume this woman thinks in any part like what normal is to him, but he is acutely aware that his naked form is not what most people expect. Though, with his softer facial features, some have scoffed and implied ‘they always knew’, but he ‘solved’ the problem by overcompensating elsewhere. Despite the last few days starving and sweating to death, Riku is still very much an athletic built boy, not shying away from lifting a heavy box or two. The scars beneath his chest were less than starkly visible, at least, and especially as he folds his arms across them, but the lack of something in particular between his legs is impossible to hide in this position. 

However, there’s not even a hint of implication she cares- or even _notices._ “Well, be thankful it is not _me_ you need to enamor.” Now that he isn’t splashing around like a wounded animal, the woman delicately reaches over to douse his head with soap. Since he’s more comfortable becoming soup and warming his incredibly sore bones, Riku simply looks up at the movement of her hands and the cool blob forming at the top of his head. She pauses, however, when there’s no movement to desist or help. “You truly sit there like a helpless little thing, hmn.”

“... This is actually a little weird for me,” Riku mumbles, his gaze averting half-lidded to the soap foaming around his lips. “Maybe you remind me of my mom.”

“Heavens- I will not be your _mother_ ,” and she recoils in horror while Riku gets the hint and reaches up to wash his own hair. 

Mumbling into the water, he itches his scalp with a pleased tone, “I was joking- I promise, you are _nothing_ like my mother.” He sinks his face into the warmth for a moment, and since he isn’t choking like he had before, the woman lets this happen. When he surfaces, slightly more rinsed of dirt and soap. “I guess I’m sicker than I thought, my head feels weird. I keep just, saying things instead of thinking about it,” he mumbles, still itching at his skull.

“Well, perhaps I somewhat have that effect on people, but I cannot claim your mind’s fog is entirely my fault.” Slowly, she looks over a shoulder behind her, but the bathroom has a sharp corner to what he can only assume is where the door is. If there is someone there she is glancing at, Riku couldn’t hope to see them from this angle. 

“Incredibly ominous.” He peers over anyways, but only with his eyes. If it’s the giant man looming at the doorway, Riku especially does not want to see him while he’s wet and naked. Of course, if he’s sure this is going where it is going, there’s no way the man won’t see him eventually. What had the woman said in the car? He was a doctor, maybe? Riku would think then it would be _him_ attending to his poor health, but.

Looking back to him, however, “Do you remember nothing of how you become inside of the house?”

“Not… nothing. But not much.” Y’know. A large, deep voiced man throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, no big deal. There’s the vaguest sense the two of them talked some in the house, but Riku recalls none of it. 

“Well, I pretend to regret to inform you, I have sold you to the man of this house to eat.” Riku been so calm and complacent the whole time, and she’s really getting tired of the whole facade of caring, even the absolutely abysmal job of it she manages. Still, she isn’t directly unkind. Since he’s willing to wash himself, she continues to offer him bottles and bars of soap, and he gets to decide what they’re for and if he likes the way they smell before using them. As awkward as it is, her demeanor makes it weirdly easy to just casually wash himself while they talk. That, or the mental fog was really dumbing down his senses of self preservation.

“What happened to the ‘doctor’ spiel, huh.”

She shrugs, “He _is_ a doctor. And he will medicate you.”

“Very smooth. Medicate me with _death_?” Riku retorts, giving her a sharp look.

She merely waves that dismissive hand to that, sitting back down on the stool and letting him do as he wishes, more than eager to put as little work into this as possible now that he is, somehow, conscious. “Why would I bother bathing you if we’d just planned to slash out your innards for the sacrificial stone?”

“Uhh…” He lingers at the edge of the water for a long moment. “It’ll make the ritual cleaner?”

“... Well, I do suppose. But no, you’re less useful a sick little puppy.” Looking over at him with a softer gaze, her gaze tracks him up and down now that the dirt is floating around in the tub rather than all over his body. “I think, cleaned up, you nearly look like a pedigree dog. Still a _dog_ , though,” she hums, reaching over him to pull up the tub stop. And, like a dog, Riku sits there and watches, watches as the water drains off his body, watches as the grime circles down the drain alongside the bubbles. Of course, then he’s reminded he’s still very _naked_ , and curls up his legs to hide his body. Cleaner now, for sure, but she reaches up to pull down the shower hose, and without prompting turns the faucet on to douse him with water. The split second of cold water has him shrilling, but he’s too busy wrapped around his legs to thrash around like he had earlier. Again, a quiet ‘oops’, but looking at her face, she doesn’t seem terribly sorry. 

Fully rinsed now, they both eyeball the bruises and old cuts on his forearms and legs. “There, good as new,” she proclaims, however, standing up and letting him sit there dripping in the tub. “Why are you curled up like that, I haven’t even hit you.”

“Uhm,” Riku mumbles, just burying his face further in his knees. “Nothing, I guess.” He tries desperately to uncoil himself, but it goes not much of anywhere. That fog really hits him now, an air of forced complacency, but whatever mental jamming the strange woman was attempting to enforce, it didn’t seem to be phasing him as well as it would have anyone else she had ever brought home. 

“... you are more than I thought you were, somehow. My instincts for good fun are unmatched by any in all the lands,” she laughs to herself, glancing back over her shoulder to the doorway. 

Now he’s more curious, though, and without thought he suddenly stands. Well, as best as he can- there’s some stumbling, but at least he doesn’t completely slip and bust his head open again. His feet remind him of the journey that got him there, however, like pins and needles itching pain up his calves from the bottom of his feet. 

Remembering that he had whacked his head, however, Riku stiffens his spine when she reaches over and casually tugs him over by the hair. She gets a good fistful, however, and pulls gently enough it doesn’t hurt more than the bruise forming from the previous self-inflicted beating. He’s weak in the legs, but does manage to stand there while she inspects. Of course, he remembers again the nudity, but there’s more need to keep balanced than to hide his weary body. “Hmn, well there’s no blood, but that could’ve washed down the drain.”

“Guess you should’ve looked sooner.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugs, releasing him and taking a step back so he might step out of the tub. Also offering the towel she’d been using on her own arms to dry his head, “you look like you’ve seen quite worse.”

“Yep,” Riku answers simply, throwing the towel over his head to delicately dry off his hair. He needs a good brushing, too, and like she can read his mind, a brush is placed in his hand. With his eyes closed, he slips the towel down to his shoulders to carefully pull the knots out of his hair. The mental fog is easing, however, and he can feel his tension returning, but contains his discomfort for the sake of raking his scalp with a brush. When he’s leaned down, however, another hand pulls up at the hairs right where the bruise was forming beneath them, brushing a thumb over the injury.

His voice absolutely echoes through the granite walls of the bathroom. “It seems like it might have bled a drop. Mali, did you not only bring me a dirty pet, but also let him injure himself immediately?” Now that he’s thinking about it, the brush in his hand had come from the opposite side of where the woman stood.

Riku flinches both to the sudden voice booming around him, to the woman's immediate shrilling, “I did no such thing! He broke through Namine’s spell like it was nothing and thrust himself into the wall- which is not _my_ fault.” When it looks like he’s about to crouch down on his knees and hide himself again, Riku is unfortunately grabbed at the bicep to keep him standing. The other hand of the man reaches around to grab the towel around Riku’s shoulders, pulling it up over his head until it fully covers his eyes again. Somehow, that is comforting.

“Broke through Namine’s spell?” The man rumbles with curious interest, peering down at the boy caught in his grip. Riku can feel him leaning down on him, looming, but giving him a few little sniffs. “He does smell quite strange, as I recall you mentioning. You remain to be a very lucky creature in what you find.”

“Lucky or _skilled_ ,” the woman snarks, approaching to run her claws delicately up the bare skin of Riku’s back. “I will now surprise you more than I ever have. I would find it more appealing than not if you _didn’t_ kill this one immediately.”

He is, in fact, taken aback by this statement. “Yes- that is an incredibly strange take for you to have. And, as equally as I had not planned to end him so soon, so will he remain alive so long as he does not drop dead. He seems the kind of snack to keep around for a while.” The barest tip of his finger reaches past the towel to rub down the pulse in Riku’s neck.

Riku speaks loud but muffled from the towel around his face, “why do you two talk like you’re fucking cryptids.” He doesn’t expect the man at his front to laugh so earnestly at his statement.

“Ah, you could look into yourself for that answer. I may not be fully aware of how you’ve come to my home, but I know often my friend picks up strays either willingly or less so to become gifts to sate my hunger. Not once has one come so both boldly and complacently to my heel without prompting- so, why do you act as if this is somehow _normal_?” 

The man catches him wobbling on his heels again, and while he could continue to keep him standing from the grip around his arm, it wouldn’t be exactly comfortable. Riku would argue that comfort was not the issue here once he’s hefted up like a child onto the man’s hip. “Ahk-” he flexes an arm out to push away, but there is no use trying to pry away from his grip. At the very least, the towel is still wrapped around his eyes, so he can’t see the predicament, but the bare skin of Riku’s thighs meets the _disturbingly_ cold skin of the man’s forearms. “Alright, you got me there. Christ- why did you pick me up like I weigh nothing to you,” he mumbles, still leaning away from his grasp, but not struggling.

“Because you weigh nothing to me,” he replies in good humor, and Riku can feel him turning on heel and toting him out of the bathroom. He can’t see much from underneath the towel, but Riku does spy the man’s black pants and bare feet strolling across an expensive, thick black carpet- and for a split second, pale legs skittering away.

Not the woman he had met, but someone else. ‘Namine’, a name they had spoken in passing. And the woman, ‘Mali?’ But what was the man’s name? “Gonna tell me who you are before you gut me?”

“Well, you also have not offered your name- but we’d just spoken how I have no plans to kill you.”

“ _Yet_. And you can gut someone without killing them. And I asked for your name first.”

“Well, I won’t _give_ you my name, but you may call me Ansem. To your advantage, Mali has given you the name Riku.”

“See- didn’t even need to tell you. Mali,” Riku ‘looks’ behind him, but still has a towel on his head. “Thanks.”

“Very unfortunately, she has gone the other way. You can thank her later- or you’ll forget to, or rather not thank her at all.”

“I can thank her for taking away a formality from me while also damning her for whatever is about to happen. Which, by the way, despite everything, I literally do not have a clue what is going on. You keep talking about eating me.”

“It is a necessity.”

“That usually kills the man.”

“Ohh, it hardly has to.”

“Well, count me not looking forward to how much it's going to hurt.” A drop of anxiety trickles down the back of his throat, and he feels himself instinctively pushing away uselessly from the man’s grip again. Ansem, he repeats the name in his head. Riku feels like he’ll be using it a lot.

“The fight you put up continues to be very lackluster though, it seems.” Easily, Ansem hefts his naked weight up against his side again, balancing him on his hip and the grip of a single thick arm. They stop momentarily, and Riku hears a door creek open. 

“I’m really, really tired,” he admits, sighing heavily. Despite everything, there’s nothing more this brain wants to do than lay down in his grip and take another long nap.

“Well, being tired will somewhat ruin my fun. To ‘coddle’ my meat, Mali had said, so first,” Riku feels his weight dropping as the man leans over and sets him on what Riku can only assume is a bedspread. It’s incredibly soft, satin sheening beneath his ass and palms when he lowers them to steady himself. However, Ansem presses a solid hand on his chest and pushes backwards until he gets the hint and lays down prone, legs dangling off the end. With another swift motion, he’s grabbed by the knee and slides upwards until he’s fully laying. The sudden horizontal mixed with the extremely soft bedding and already exhaustion nearly has his eyes lidded instantaneously, but the towel slides off his face as well, and Riku makes the effort to peer down at his captor.

The room is so barely lit he can hardly see, mixed with the fact that the man was nowhere near pale, his dark skin balanced against silver hair pooling slicked down his back. He has little hair ‘horns’ quite like the woman does, but more to the sides and one at the very top. Backlit from this angle, he is an imposing shadow at his feet. Ominous amber eyes seem to shine in the candle light; Riku’s eyes move towards the shelves where those little flames flicker. “God, really, candle light,” he cannot help but snark, but Ansem still takes his idle sassing with an air of humor.

“Isn’t it nice? Admittedly, there’s no other choice.” As Ansem looks around, so does Riku to follow his gaze, and sure enough. A window is hidden beneath a heavy curtain, though it seems like it’s still night out anyways, and there are no lamps in any corner. “I could blow out each one to slowly sink you in darkness, if you prefer.”

Well, does seeing him make this any better or worse? Riku’s eyebrow knit in worry again before his eyes squeeze shut, and before he can think his legs are curling up to cover his chest. He feels Ansem’s grip on his ankle, tugging it, but despite very much being able to tear his limb away, he abates to let him wallow in whatever emotion this is.

Riku doesn’t expect the cold hand sliding down his exposed thigh, and doesn’t respond until it nestles uncomfortable on the slit of his sex. After having been so complacent the entire duration of their little interaction, Ansem does not expect how quickly that leg shoots out and connects with his skull with a dull thud and tiny crack, though he cannot blame him, and it was not a unique occurrence. Riku equally does not expect to connect with face and meet intense resistance, the pain of over-walking for days and days now radiating down his shin like he’d kicked a steel pole. A yelp escapes him as well, and another when Ansem grabs him by the ankle, as he expects his suddenly unruly pet to kick a second time, but the boy opts to try to scramble away instead. It goes nowhere, of course, still caught up by his now injured limb, but it does pull up a bunch of his blankets. Once Riku’s wheezing beneath a pile of fabric, Ansem hums still gripped on his ankle, “Are you done?”

“Do not- _why did you touch my crotch_ -”

“You did warn me you had no indication of what was coming, and yet, I do see myself surprised at your lack of due care.” Pulling him towards him again, Ansem is up and over him in one solid movement. There’s no room to escape now, not that there had been before, but Riku still opts to pull his hands over his head defensively. To Riku’s benefit, when the man holds his breath to listen, the silence of the room is broken by the sounds of Riku desperately heaving air into a fluid filled chest. His heart thumps out of his chest, sounding off the pathetic straits of his body alongside the wet gasping of his lungs. “Ah, dammit all you were not found but a day ago. You truly are inedible tonight,” Ansem hums, slowly leaning back down off the bed. 

Despite his good front earlier, Riku feels the pricks of tears in the corner of his eyes, even more so when his attacker backs away. As much as he rather not be touched again, blankets are tugged away from where they constrict at his shoulder, and he dragged lengthwise into bed, near the side. The residual panic is the only thing keeping him conscious when a blanket is tucked up and around his body, though Ansem does pull out an arm to rest over rather than under the blankets. Again, Riku’s eyes close when silence overtakes the room, but another jolt of panic has him nearly sitting up. The room, however, is empty. A sharp pain hits his innards, thirst, hunger. That half drunk water bottle was hours ago now, and the bath was not helping. Again, he feels the welling of tears behind his eyes, but at the very least, this bed is very comfortable. You know, where he wasn’t feeling a radiating pain down his one leg, now. Maybe after walking for so long, the bones in his feet were sore, and he’d somehow broken it hitting it wrong against a sturdy skull. If he had kicked that hard, though, he’d think that Ansem might’ve been affected more than with curiosity to the outburst. 

Something pricks the base of his wrist, but by now even the slightest movement of his head leaves him wobbling. Ansem is here again, though he does not outwardly notice when Riku rises. He’s delicately putting an IV in his arm- a feeling Riku is not unfamiliar with. His eyes track upwards to the drip hung from the bed frame, a clear fluid pooling up in his veins. When he looks back down, unfortunately, it’s not only saline he’s being gifted with tonight, Ansem pulls out a syringe to gift him with something for the pain. Somehow, god somehow, he clings to consciousness as Ansem works around him, pulling his injured foot and toying around with it idly, but whatever he had injected him with, Riku’s limbs are numb. It isn’t until Ansem returns to his face and gently brushes a palm over his eyes, fingers wringing into his hairline, before Riku can make no more attempt to remain awake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here it comes  
> tw; bottom riku entirely bound to the bed and getting his shit absolutely rocked only semi-consensually- blood drinking, aphrodisiacs, IV line(in the neck), vampire-grade biting, crying, unremovable collar, belt impact 'play', bedwetting, too-big vaginal insertion with blood, non-consensual drug use.

This is simultaneously the best and worst sleep Riku has ever gotten. The drugs filtering through his system makes waking up impossible, but there’s a lingering dread knowing the situation that lay on the other side. Not to mention he can tell he’s being manhandled around. But, there’s also a certain beauty about being asleep and remaining asleep. Riku lets that roll as long as he can manage, but the anxiety starts to eat away at his will to give in. He feels eyes on his every movement, sinking deep beneath his skin and eating him inside out until his bleary eyes struggle open. Everything is spinning, however, and the room is still lit only by candles, but that shadow looms ever present at his side. Before Riku can produce a coherent thought, a firm grip has him about the jaw, thumb pressing into his cheek until his mouth pops open. Something comes up against his lips, and his instinct that is incredibly thirsty overtakes the fact he had little trust in what he’ll be fed. It takes two solid gulps before he realizes this is _not_ water, or anything else he’s ever willingly tasted- not sweet or soupy, but a sharp tang of metal. Copper. It takes two more confused gulps gurgling down his throat before Riku fully recognizes it’s _blood_. Whose blood, though. Not his own, hopefully, that would be very strange. Gulp, gulp gulp- they had said he was not the first ‘stray’ they had taken home. Maybe they have a blood bank of people locked in a basement somewhere. When the bowl is upturned and empty at his lips, Riku can’t help but lick at the edge of the bowl for each drop remaining. It tastes disgusting, revolting, a lump in his stomach, but he’s lapping at it like it was pure chocolate. It’s an incredibly bisecting experience. He even whines when the empty bowl pulls away from him, sighing heavily as he lays his head back down on the pillow. Anything to fill his empty stomach, perhaps. 

“Poor thing, you would want more?” Riku doesn’t nod, but he stares so forlorn at his prone body beneath the blankets, apparently he looks pitiful enough not to need to beg. The next bowlful of liquid is not blood, or whatever blood-like substance that was, but he’s still desperate enough for liquid he slurps it eagerly. Something sweeter, this time. Of course, Ansem makes him take his time- to vomit what he’d been given prior would be an _expensive_ waste, but once he’s done feeding him, Riku looks content enough to sleep. He doesn’t still, of course, but at least now his soft, teal gaze looks over to the shadow sitting at his side. Ansem meets his eyes with his faintly glowing ambers, and holds it there for a long moment while they read each other, but find no known intent. “Awake, now?”

“Maybe,” Riku rasps, attempting to pull a hand to itch at his neck, but suddenly realizes his arms are bound above his head. Slowly, he looks above to his bindings- thick leather cuffs and mitts that fully mute the ability to use his arms and hands, chained to the more than sturdy steel of the bed frame. A frown crosses his face before his eyes wander back to Ansem, who looks quite placated with the situation. “Well, this might as well happen,” Riku can only mumble to himself, eyes falling to his legs. When he remembers that they’re there, he can feel a similar predicament, though only cuffs pull tight around his ankles, they are not chained to anywhere. Probably for the best- his foot is still radiating pain, though it’s muted from the drugs still lingering, and he thinks it might be wrapped.

“It is a shame.”

“I thought you said I was inedible.”

“Only for last night. You’ve slept all day like a peaceful little princess,” Ansem hums, reaching over to Riku’s neck. His fingers linger around that spot that itches, and sharply Riku realizes that it stings as well. That familiar feeling he’d had in his wrist earlier, but now the IV is stuck in his neck. Suppose that makes sense with his arms above his head, and his eyes follow the line up to the drip still hooked above the bed. It has a perfect little indent to sit in, so Riku assumes this is something he does to his captives often. 

“Oh. So my time is up now. You’ve put a lot of effort into keeping me alive.” Despite being barely conscious minutes ago, something has kick started his engine conscious. Maybe it’s the fear. Maybe it’s whatever syrup Ansem had poured down his throat.

“Do you plan on making me repeat myself often? I am not inclined to kill you.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m just joking.” Riku mumbles, eyes lidding with a sigh. Along with that kickstart to his consciousness, a strange heat is starting to radiate in his chest. Sweat sheening on his skin, and the blanket he’s tucked under feels unbearable. Ansem sits back and watches as he lays there and struggles to contain himself, but refuses to ask for help. He equally doesn’t ask for permission to move, and Ansem startles when the uninjured foot violently upheaves itself and flings the blanket somewhat off his body in one solid swing. As he instinctively does, Riku’s leg bends up rather than lay prone, but he doesn’t have the effort to fully curl it over his body. Not to mention the last time he pulled that trick, someone tried to put a finger where he rather it hadn’t. Of course, at this point, Riku isn’t stupid. He’s tied naked to a crazy rich guy’s bed, and something he’d been fed was making his blood run flush and warm across his skin, between his legs... 

“I’ll humor you just this once, but you’ll find I do not enjoy repeating myself,” Ansem rumbles, standing up from his chair to reach across to the discarded blanket. He fully pulls it up and off the bed, delicately folding it and placing it at the foot while he watches Riku squirm in his containment.

“Duly noted,” Riku rasps, his legs unconsciously crossing. He’s thirsty again, but it’s probably related to how incredibly hot he feels. Unlike the thrashing he’d done the first time Ansem had touched him uninvited, when a cold hand presses against the flat of his stomach and travels down, Riku’s body stiffens when a thumb presses flush to his sex. His eyes are pinned on that hand, and since he’s not squirming, Ansem does him the blessing of circling the pad of his thumb against a very suddenly over eager clit. It’s a shame that though Riku’s mouth opens, no sound escapes, but his expressions are lovely enough as an expert hand explores the quickly wettening slit of himself. 

“I am glad to see you do play nice when given the right, _encouragement_ ,” he rumbles, dipping fingers beneath firmly crossed thighs. Despite Riku’s attempt to stop him, Ansem’s palm pushes past the resistance until two fingers press to slick entrance and _enter_. 

Riku sharply exhales, his hips curling away from the intrusion instinctively, but the wild pulse of sensation that follows has him relaxing back over his fingers. “This- this isn’t my fault,” Riku absolutely whines, his body reacting against his will.

“I did say ‘encouragement’,” Ansem hums, and pleased with the response, pries apart his thighs to leverage himself better. He lingers there to rub against the stiffening thing erecting between Riku’s folds, hooking his thumb beneath the hood to drag up and down between his hole and his clit rather than give the main event full attention. Each stroke has Riku’s legs laying more prone, his expression drawling hazy and unfocused from the gentle stimulation. He can’t help but drool- and he chokes on the excess moisture when he’s suddenly penetrated again. Ansem offers him zero reprieve to adjust, gripped hard to his thigh and slamming two fingers deep, over and over, finger fucking him to try to get a rise from his throat, but nothing seems to get Riku going more than a quiet wet clicking at the back of his throat. Not that Ansem doesn’t relish in the sounds his cunt is making instead, so slicked it’s soaking his hand with each thrust.

A familiar pressure is coiling up in his core, and Riku’s breath catches uneven and wanting; his eyes open to stare down at Ansem staring back up at him, his hips eagerly matching his fingers. When Ansem stops for a moment to readjust, Riku cries pathetically, his leg pulling up underneath him to squirm his impatience, and the audacity has Ansem pressing a firm opposite hand to Riku’s midsection until he settles back into the mattress. “Fuck-” Riku hisses, eyes squeezing shut, “rude.”

“Payback for kicking me, perhaps,” Ansem purrs, slowly dragging wet fingers across his slit. Still, Riku is only giving the smallest little noises to the stimulation, but Ansem is still enjoying the moment with a half-lidded gaze. There’s an entire night to get him screaming. Roughly, he slams his fingers back into Riku’s wanting hole, but three fingers deep, stretching him uncomfortably that a sharp pain bleeds through the pressure coiling inside. It equally ruins the orgasm as it will heighten it later, but Riku yelps regardless.

Like a mantra, Riku mumbles, “Fuck, fuck, fuck fu-, fuCK,” and that drug laden heat pooling in his stomach shocks between his legs. He can hardly comprehend how wet he sounds, how lewd a noise his cunt was making down there, but he doesn’t need to understand it to very much feel it. A tongue rakes against his dry lips, the little saliva he has to spare pooling at the back of his throat. Every time he squirms too far, he feels that IV itching in his neck, and as much as he wants to become away from the over stimulation, he also doesn’t want to pull the damn thing out of his neck. He can’t see it’s quite firmly taped in place. When climax creeps up again, Riku whines, but again, Ansem pulls out his fingers with a wet pop, rubbing his thumb between his folds. “Fuck- why- please just, ah-, aahh- do _something_ -”

“I am doing something,” Ansem retorts, his fingers still delicately trailing across his cunt. 

“Uhhgg- something _more than tha_ t,” Riku wheezes, his head thudding down into the pillow. 

“So demanding for someone who scolded me for touching once before.”

“Yeah well you didn’t put liquid fuck in my stomach before last time,” Riku snarks, and like the unruly thing he is, Ansem is once again caught off guard by a leg kicking up. It doesn’t kick outwards, however, but it does place his broken foot firmly on Ansem’s still clothed chest, and pushes. It gets nowhere, of course, between pressing the broken bone to the solid meat of his pecs and the fact Ansem was ruthlessly powerful. Riku opens a single eye to peer down at what the man was doing now, but Ansem is busy staring at the interloping limb. There’s many things he expects to happen, but Ansem opening his mouth to a glistening set of heavy fangs was not one of them. Before he can pull his leg back, those oversized teeth are stuck in the meat of his calf, and Riku shrieks in discomfort- but it doesn't... really hurt? Or, it didn’t initially hurt. It hurts now because he’d tugged the caught skin away, and it tore out a section of his meat. Since there’s blood flowing free of his leg now, Ansem gets caught in the moment, both arms gripped onto thighs and dragging Riku onto his lap until his bound arms are taught against the short chains above his head. Things suddenly get so significantly less sexy when Ansem goes from relatively sane looking, to lapping the blood out of Riku’s leg like an animal. “Wuh- stop that!” He still manages to yelp, eyes squinting in pain but still unable to stop staring at the situation. The more he licks into his wound, however, the less it seems to hurt.

His amber eyes flick hungry to Riku’s face, his body, flush with blood pumping strained beneath his skin. The smell of blood and sex lingers heavy in the air, and with his demeanor changed in bloodlust, Ansem’s lips trail from the blood dripping down his leg, nibbling scrapes down his thigh until tongue hits over eager clit. Riku would so much rather that _didn’t_ become perforated, but any pulling up on his arms or attempted crossing of his legs means absolutely nothing to the raw strength gripped around his thighs. He still feels some of the pain in his calf and the warmth dripping down it, but it’s grossly overtaken by the raw pleasure of a tongue eagerly lapping up the juices pooling between his legs. To his credit, there is no biting, or rather Riku can’t seem to feel any biting, but when he looks down, there’s still a significant splattering of blood on Ansem’s lips. As much as Riku wants to be horrified at this, he’s still entirely wound up in the throws of what he’d been fed earlier, and Ansem doesn’t seem to need to breathe between eagerly sucking between his legs, pressure wet but not exactly warm circling his previously under stimulated clit. A third time, that heat coils up until it hits home this time, shocking the most pleasant noise Ansem has ever heard to split through Riku’s throat like a siren. The second most beautiful thing Ansem has ever heard is when he decides he's not done drinking him, and the overstimulation has Riku bruising his wrists against his restraints to escape. 

“Sto- god, stop please, please stop, _please stop_ ,” Riku warbles pathetically when Ansem continues eating him alive, but Ansem does not stop until he’s laying prone against the mattress, crying in strain. Now, everything just sort of comes together to be quite painful, the climax rolling through his body in uncomfortable waves. His leg is bleeding significantly less than it ought to be considering the long lines dug deep into his skin, but Riku supposes he can’t complain about that. His neck, however- a sharp pain has his eyes flicking to the IV Line, but he doesn’t feel the familiar warmth of blood trickling down his neck. Not that he’s in a position to fix anything; Riku feels the pressure fall off his legs until it pushes up on his ass, sliding him back up the mattress until arms fold back above his head, where it once again rests on pillow. His eyes flutter shut to catch his breath, but he can feel Ansem’s heavy weight moving up the mattress. Delicate fingers pry at the IV, readjusting it, pushing down the tape.

Riku’s stomach is still reeling, though, a heat still pooling beneath his sternum. He swallows roughly at the thought- he was exhausted enough now being edged three times just from his fingers, but if his body was planning on demanding more, he isn’t sure where the energy is going to come from. 

Ansem presses himself up against Riku’s side. He’s still wearing clothes, but slowly his hands come forwards to unbutton himself delicately, and the scent of his sweat creeps out when he becomes halfways naked. It permeates the air around past the lingering smell of sex and blood on his lips- Riku had noticed it before, but didn’t really take in the thought. Ansem smells like something particular, he thinks, like an apothecary, like walking past an essential oil stand at the mall. A mix of herbs, sharp and unique with each passing. He didn’t know the exact scent he was thinking of, but when he leans towards Ansem’s body, a few more sniffs reminds him even more of walking past a chinese herbal store. Ginger, eucalyptus, something else he couldn’t pronounce. Focusing on all the details of Ansem’s smell lets him take a moment to forget the pulsing heat between his legs. 

Ansem watches very curiously as his puppy gives him a few sniffs, but is nowhere near done torturing his new toy yet. A finger trails across Riku’s heated neck, wrapping his cold digits against the soft skin above his pulse. He can feel Riku swallow here, each ridge of his trachea flinching beneath his grip. “Are you still thirsty?” 

At the pressure around his neck, his eyes wearily open, trailing over the absolute pinnacle of well defined muscle and flawless skin laying beside him. He does, however, note the flaring scar of pale skin over where Ansem’s heart would be. It takes Riku a long moment to reply, licking dry over his teeth as he stares down Ansem’s body. Looking over the bulge tenting the absolute hell out of his pants. “I mean, honestly, yeah.”

“Well, _I_ had a drink, so it would be cruel of me to deny you,” Ansem purrs into his ear, rubbing a thumb across his jugular. In one swift movement, however, he’s up and off the bed, Riku yelping at the sudden jolt. 

He warbles under his breath when Ansem walks away, “Actually I take that back, I don’t want anymore of your suspicious juice.” Since he has a moment to look around, Riku takes a better look at the dim surroundings. He’s still on one the side of the bed, of course, and there’s a nightstand beside him alongside the chair Ansem was sitting in. Several bottles litter the top, some empty and some full, and a handful of syringes also in various states of empty or not. They seem to be in particular order, even, so Riku supposes Ansem has a list of things he plans to inflict upon him in time.

“Well, I do not have anymore ‘suspicious juice’,” he even air quotes, disappearing past a door. A dim light flicks on- a bathroom! Not the same one he was in before, there is a toilet and a sink with brown and gold tiling. Even the sound of the sink has Riku’s throat clenching.

“Oh, alright then… Are you implying licking up my… that, is… a drink?”

Ansem laaaughs to that, low and foreboding, “No, not your cunt- your leg, silly.”

Oh, that’s right! He’s forgotten because it doesn’t hurt. Riku’s eyes flick to the injury, weakly lifting the limb to inspect the damage. His poor leg, broken foot, and sure enough, two lines deep into his skin, but the blood is dutifully clotted. “This is going to sound stupid, but I forgot.”

“That does not sound stupid,” Ansem retorts, returning with his bowl full of water. It has a spout on one side which Riku assumes is how easily he had sipped from it earlier, and why they’re still forgoing a cup now.

“It doesn’t even itch,” his self staring is interrupted when Ansem brings the bowl of water to his lips. Again, he sips at it, but manages to control himself enough Ansem isn’t required to pace him. 

“It might itch more later.”

Though he’s still heated, a layer of fog lifts from his mind. “...I really don’t know anything, do I?”

“Apparently not. Do you even question where you are yet? Your company? Where you’ve been? Where you’ll be?”

His lips purse a moment when he thinks, but. “That was a lot. But the answer to all of it is ‘I don’t know.”

“Then you’ve answered your own question.”

“I think to answer _your_ question,” Riku mumbles, “is it doesn’t matter. Where, when, whatever. I might as well be here than anywhere else.”

“No hopes? Aspirations? College essays due?” Ansem hums, delicately placing a hand on Riku’s belly to stroke up and down the soft, tight muscles there. He’s so very warm still, but Ansem’s fascinated by how cognizant his drugged pet is remaining to be. One does not chug a healthy supply of vampire’s blood followed by aphrodisiac and be what Ansem would consider a normal mortal. Riku’s pessimism is a blessing in Ansem’s eyes- for now he gets to abuse the hidden strength this boy harbors beneath his ribs.

“Quit my job, not going to school.” His eyes drift to the tiled roof, and then shut. He really had cut all ties before he left. Sure, there were a couple loose ends, but. What does it really matter.

“Forgive me for having doubts you would be entirely untethered.”

“You know your friend found me on the side of a dirt road, right?”

“We often find strays who have simply forgotten their history. Once I’ve gotten them inside, once I take a _taste_ , however, they do tend to remember, very quickly. You’ve spoken, done nothing of escape, done little to deny me.”

“.. I mean, I would prefer I wasn't tied to the bed. I think I pulled a muscle in my shoulder…”

Laughing under his breath, Ansem reaches up with the hand that is not on Riku’s belly to tug at a chain. “I am not quite done with you yet, but soon. Maybe.” His amber eyes track down to meet with Riku’s sleepy gaze once again, but it feels significantly more piercing than it had before. A strange pulsing rocks his head, blurring his vision. “You, without any else. Commit yourself to me. I offer you a life of _decision_. All these ‘I don’t know’ and ‘where else to be’. You will be here, and I will answer your questions.”

It’s hard to think when his head is pounding like this. But it does sound really nice. Indecision has notoriously ruined Riku’s life before. Not acting in due time. Not caring what happens next. As Ansem had mentioned it- Riku spares a thought about his life. Friends. Lovers lost. Lovers never properly taken. His poor mother, crying at her son exiting her life without a word. That’s the selling point, really- the fact he would never have to speak to his parents again, and it wouldn’t even be his fault. So, Riku’s mouth opens without really taking the time to think it over. “Okay.”

Then the pounding stops, and Ansem’s eyes avert to the floor, lips pursed in thought. “Without question?” He hums curiously.

“You said it yourself. And repeating myself- where else do I have to be. Is this a mistake? Sure, maybe. Won’t be the first, won’t be the last.”

Oh, oh so ominously, Ansem _laughs_ , low and echoing in his chest. “Perhaps you will not regret this. But I will take what is mine, now.”

Riku swallows rough in his throat, though it remembers the water he’d been graciously given minutes ago. His eyes follow Ansem as he stands, wandering to a nearby dresser and opening it, though it’s the wrong angle for Riku to see what is inside. He rummages around, greeting Riku to the sounds of metal and chains, buckles. A creak of leather. Now, Riku has had some kinky sex before, so this isn’t an entirely foreign situation. Bound to the bed, a collar tight to his neck pulled taut to the cock ramming deep into his sex. But something about this just feels like it’s going to be worse. Generally, his lackluster doms have taken him like a fleshlight, in and out, one and done. Riku remembers too well minutes ago when Ansem was sufficing himself finger fucking him insane. And that was before he _asked_. Now Riku has fully committed to, what did he say? ‘Take what is mine now?’ 

His fears are realized when Ansem turns around with a blindfold in his hands- thick, and leather, and not just a blindfold, he comes to see. A gag hangs beneath like a horse-bit, solid black rubber, already worn in with teeth marks. In his other hand is a very plain looking collar. Leather, a soft fur inner in deep dark red. Panic joking, Riku warbles, “Apparently the last guy wasn’t very pleased,” a comment to the teeth marks in the gag.

“I had not asked them as politely,” Ansem absolutely _rumbles,_ his voice echoing like it had outside in the rain. Like when he was nibbling at his leg earlier, Ansem obtains a feral aura that has Riku sweating and shrinking into the sheets more than he was before.

Without prompting, and as Ansem approaches and lays the headgear across his chest, Riku cranes his neck when threatening hands pull that collar around his throat. He’s delicate enough that it doesn’t impede the IV still threaded into his skin, and Ansem buckles it loose on his neck so a thumb can slip beneath to press against his skin. Riku hears the tiny metal click of a lock, though. “Who am I sharing this with, huh.”

“None else has worn this- it was made for you, though I did not know it. I have had pets, but I do not _keep_ them,” leaning in close, Ansem speaks directly into his ear, his breath tickling humid down his jaw. “Or I hadn’t. Suppose things do change,” he purrs, rubbing down the still exposed section of his neck. He can feel the pulse jumping beneath his finger, the eager heat ready to flare back into life. 

“Well, then I’m flattered,” Riku gets one last quip out, but Ansem has had quite a bit enough of his aimless warbling. He reaches for the headgear again, pulling Riku’s head forwards to fit it over his skull, delicately pulling away hair the long, platinum strands to not become terribly or painfully entangled in buckles. It takes a moment to convince Riku to drop jaw once his eyes become nervously covered, but a finger squeezes the soft part of his jaw until lips part and the bit shoves itself tight to the back of his teeth. When Ansem tightens the straps, all vision is lost to him, his tongue licking against the rubber slotted past his canines.

He’s been gagged before, and blindfolded, but never at the same time, and never so _officially._ His teeth don’t completely slot in where marks had been worried deep into the rubber, but he also doesn’t feel a particular urge to chew into it. ‘Yet’, he tells himself silently, because nothing more than spit-soaked breath escapes from between his lips. Ansem is still moving around him, the sounds of chains and movement that have Riku feeling more and more panicked as time goes by, so much that he jolts when Ansem grabs an ankle. “Belly up already?” he hums, but is not phased by the sudden hesitation. A chain clips onto the cuff already around his uninjured ankle and with gentle pressure, Ansem pulls up until Riku’s knee is bending over his chest. The chain there joins the ones at his wrist, bending him uncomfortably until another strip of soft leather is wrapped behind his knee, pulled behind his neck. The other leg is pressured to join the first and is bound equally up by the binding around his knee, but Ansem does not clip that ankle down, and is making due care to avoid his wrapped and broken foot. This position leaves Riku entirely exposed, and the already slicked nature of himself gets breezy awfully quickly. It doesn’t help that it is absolutely pulsing with heat again, and Ansem can see each straining muscle between his thighs. Any urge to struggle now would be met with near inescapable resistance, as a quick squeeze of Riku’s legs makes it known the impossibility of closing his thighs without breaking his neck. Sure, his one foot is still free, but Riku isn’t terribly interested in losing the right to have it, seeing as he’s sure other things are coming to hurt him tonight.

A finger meets slit again, easing a single, lonely finger in. It curls around to the sensitive pad inside of him, and Riku can’t help but barely keen behind his muzzle, albeit mostly in want rather than pleasure. Ansem only continues teasing him, barely slipping in and out at a lackluster pace, until again Riku lays prone, only his breath straining his folded lungs. Lips meet cunt again, but Ansem keeps up his slow pace, dragging his tongue between wet folds, tasting every inch of it. He has been nibbling, of course, little pinpricks of blood that mix beautifully with the taste of his sex. While he occupies himself licking the smallest circles over Riku’s inflamed clit, his still inserted fingers drag all that excess fluid further down than it was already dripping, pooling at his _other_ entrance, the one Ansem was generally more experienced with. Not to say he’s never had a taste of cunt, but Mali did tend to bring him male prizes, and this particular kind was the rarest treat. Riku stiffens at the intrusion at his asshole, having rarely but not never inserted small things up there, but there’s no room to wriggle away and he’s over-slicked, so an index finger slips in with little resistance. It’s an awkward feeling, he thinks, but not wholly unpleasant. Ansem takes it slow, at least, pulling in and out with his natural fluids until he’s quite deep with that single finger. So, why not add two. It’s definitely getting uncomfortable when a second joins in, and Riku lets him know with a muted whine and an awkward stretch of his legs, but that really is only encouragement. Readjusting his position upwards a bit, Ansem pulls his lips away from an over stimulated clit, having gotten all the lubrication he would really need- for now, at least. He relishes the sounds that creep past Riku’s throat when he fingers rough into his more unused entrance, a thumb hooking into his cunt just for the fun of it. 

Somehow, this is still very much getting Riku off. The pressure builds hot in his chest quicker than natural, Riku blaming the liquid burning in his core, but it _is_ a fun new feeling caught on the slick ring of his asshole. He clenches against the fingers on the downswing, forcing them out with a strained noise, but Ansem simply waits for the flex to subside before wringing his fingers back inside. “Ohh, do not tell me that it is too much yet. I’ll be having this, _fully_ , in time,” Ansem purrs, kissing the inside of his thigh before circling with three well slicked fingers. The resistance is less than they’d both expect, mostly because Riku takes the hint and relaxes, but it still burns on initial impact, Riku’s drool rasping hot past his bit in discomfort. He’s baring down his teeth into that rubber now, actually fairly pleased that it is there for him to work his frustrations into. Before long, Ansem’s ramming those three fingers deep inside of his asshole, too, the wet sounds of his oversexed self echoing into their ears mixing with Riku’s pitiful muted whining as their chorus. 

It’s a relief and a curse when Ansem’s fingers slip out, leaving him feeling quite gaped and empty, his hole flexing stretched wide and sore. Ansem’s weight leaves the bed again, and even though he cannot see, Riku’s gaze follows the sound of his clothes shifting beside. He hears a belt buckle, so Riku supposes Ansem is finally becoming nude, and is a little sad he can’t see the show. The disappointment is sharply interrupted when the flat of a belt whips hard against his exposed ass. That, of course, gets a vocal rise of him, although the cries of pain are not necessarily what Ansem is after. He still wants them, of course, but it isn’t the endgame. Riku squirms pathetically, but Ansem grips hard on Riku’s freer thigh to make sure he doesn’t get that foot in the way, and with a short length of belt in his palm, sets to find nice, pale skinned places to make very much more red.

Riku’s had a bit of impact play before, but this seems worse than normal- was it the belt? The situation in general? He’d never been so bound he had 0 route to escape, no safe words, no free hands. Was it the concoction he had drank, his red hot skin sensitive to sexual pleasure doubled over by pain? Despite the immediate stinging that resounds with each slap of leather against his skin, it equally shoots tension to his abused clit, his whole sex clenching painfully with each hit. Forgetting the gag taut against his teeth, Ansem can tell Riku’s garbled words are begging him to stop, but Riku isn’t thrashing near as much as any before him when he had taken to beating them. His arms are straining above his head, but Riku isn’t pulling away from the chains. He doesn’t like it, perhaps, but he doesn’t hate it, and when he looks down to Riku’s neglected cunt, it’s flushing with fresh slick pooling in his now exposed asshole. “You are quite the little whore, apparently,” Ansem muses out loud, pushing his pet’s reddening thighs apart to fully expose the wet, opening folds of his sex. There’s a long moment’s pause while Ansem stops to let Riku catch his breath, and maybe guess what’s coming next, but Riku is busy feeling the welts forming on his ass and the strange pleasure numbing his legs to realize where that belt is going next. Riku absolutely wails when leather slaps hard against the flushed nub of his clit, his oversized self taking the brunt of the impact. Well, it’s broad enough that is really strikes the entirety of his sex, but Ansem focuses on that poor, over stimulated thing, getting maybe a little carried away with his repetitive beating of it while Riku cries and thrashes and- and… His whining keenly pushes over to something that _isn’t_ pain- ohhh, _those beautiful little noises_ Ansem absolutely loves, and double loves when they come choked out and drowning in saliva. Riku had _came_ , from being _beaten_ , his pain laced cunt clenching as a climax wracks through his body. Against his will, a puddle forms beneath Riku’s legs, woefully soaking Ansem’s sheets with piss. Not the first time this had happened, and Ansem is no stranger to all the fluids a human would grant him, but never from pleasure, but rather usually from pain. Of course, it appears as if he’d gotten the poor thing off on _explicitly_ pain. 

“Ohhh, Riku,” he purrs, leaning up and over on all fours until he’s looming over the space between his legs. Riku can feel something thick and _hard_ pressing its tip up against his thigh, and Ansem leans in to rumble into his ear. “I am going to enjoy you _too much_ , perhaps. I am going to wrack your body for what it is worth, I will gleen every ounce of pleasure from you until you have nothing left to give, and you will still be forced to find more inside for you to offer me.”

Since he’s still hyperventilating from the last beating, Riku sobs at the words being spoken so lovingly into his ear. He’s soaked in piss, pained and scared, but pleasure is still radiating between each pulse of bruised-over pain. Most of all, though, he’s still very… helpless, feeling. The feeling only gets worse and worse as time goes by, and Ansem’s words only have him laying more and more prone in his bed, his breath still forcing rough past his lungs- but he is not struggling. Once he’s ‘relaxed’ again, or as relaxed as Ansem thinks he can be, he sits back up, hefting up Riku’s backside onto his thighs. Riku can really feel his cock now, and he swears it’s thicker than his wrist(though it is not), bouncing against the wet slit of his sex. He rubs it up and down the abused flesh, and it definitely stings the bruises there, but it is also incredibly elicit. Without thinking, Riku even bucks his hips up just that small amount he can against the thick shaft pressed between them. His fingers join with them, though, once again wringing themselves through Riku’s slick, coating himself with it, but reaching down to toy with his asshole. Oh christ- Riku _does_ squirm to that, taking his one chance to let out a desperate ‘no please’ with injured foot to the side of Ansem’s face. “Oh no, pet,” he purrs, tilting his head to offer the underside of Riku’s bandaged foot a delicate kiss, “you aren’t ready for that yet. But I do hope in time to get you ready.” In time with his cock rubbing against his sex, Ansem slips fingers into asshole, spreading them out and inching it wider for him- Riku isn’t sure when Ansem had gotten it, but the soft callous of fingers are suddenly replaced with smooth silicon. That, he could handle- probably. As Ansem pushes, it seems a bit thicker than even his fingers were, but with a few whines and flinches, the plug sucks past the rim of his entrance and lodges itself a few inches deep. Riku swears he feels it pushing up against his other hole, too, adding an extra pressure, which Riku isn’t entirely sure he’ll need once the head of Ansem’s cock finds itself flush and unfitting to his hole. His hips are still rolling towards the intrusion, though, so maybe his horny lizard brain thinks otherwise. A laugh rolls deep from Ansem’s chest at the still wanton nature of his new little whore, and with little fanfare, leans back and roughly inserts himself. 

It definitely doesn’t fit. Riku has had some big enough partners, dildos even, but hadn’t nearly reached this level of girth yet. However, Ansem is more than strong enough to force himself where he pleases, and the amount of slick Riku had been leaking has him half hilted before Riku absolutely clenches down in pain. Now Ansem is caught by his dick in a cunt-guillontine, it does actually kind of hurt him. The one weakness. Nothing like the actual hurt he’d been inflicting minutes prior- and still probably nothing to the stretching he was brutalizing into the meat around him. “Well,” Ansem strains, gripping hard on Riku’s thighs to gently rock himself into the intrusion, “you’ll be quite _me_ shaped when we’re done here,” and he laughs, dry and soft. Riku doesn’t seem to find it funny, and Ansem can see the tears running hot down his cheek past the blindfold, but he is also still rocking his hips. Ansem takes the moment he’s forced to let Riku adjust to look over his body, pushing his thighs up to give his neck a break, looking over the bruising, welting red and sometimes purple stripes quickly forming over his pale skin. His cunt is raw too, his clit still erect and pressed against where his hole stretches around his cock- but it all together looks quite made for this, Ansem thinks. His hips snap forwards in short little bursts, the fluid squished around his cock and Riku’s hole bubbling from the strain, milky white mixed with trails of new and old red. Soon enough, however, and with a little fresh blood dripping down his balls, Ansem is hilted. “Warm,” he rumbles to himself, idly rutting his hips against Riku’s ass. Riku swallows back his tears, wheezing from beneath him, but Ansem watches as instead of struggling, Riku takes a moment to stretch his sore arms over his head. They’ve been up there a while, and the blood is pooling out of his hands, which is double uncomfortable from the fact they’re covered in leather, too. Still hilted, Riku feels Ansem lean heavy to the side, which strains his cunt further, but every little moment to adjust to the oversized insertion makes it a little more bearable. When he returns, presumably from the pile of things on his nightstand, Riku feels him pry around with the collar until he’s got the line from the IV still in his neck. He feels the familiar cold stinging of something filtering in with the saline still dripping into his blood, and the room begins to absolutely spin, even as he cannot see it, his blotted vision swimming with unseen colours. He almost wants to puke, immediately nauseated, but the pain of his beating trickles into his periphery- still there, but ignorable. He head lulls back with a dull thud into the metal bars of the bedframe from where they’d pushed up against it, arms and legs laying slack against their bindings.

When Ansem snaps his hips forwards again, he’s met with little resistance. Though Riku had the mildest effort to flex his legs, it takes so very little medicine to make a human into a fun little sex toy, and Ansem has well had his fun with watching Riku squirm and shriek. His crying is replaced with the quietest little moans as Ansem makes his cunt ‘him sized’, as he said he would. Having been more than edged himself, bringing his new toy to climax twice before himself, Ansem rocks quickly into his own orgasm, filling up what he visualizes beneath his skin, Riku’s little womb, with his seed. Unfortunate that he’s been shooting blanks for more than a century, but he still loves the idea of his fluids squeezing up into tight little holes and infecting his toys like a parasite. Of course, Ansem thinks of this equally when fucking into the other holes impossible to bare the fruit of life, but it’s so very fun for him to think about Riku’s legitimate womb nestled between his hips. Now that he’s been even momentarily sexually satisfied, though.

Riku’s head is still swimming when he feels Ansem’s breath on his neck again, feels his lips nibbling against the smooth, pale skin there. Weakly, he tries to hike up a shoulder when it tickles, but a hand weaves into the opposite side of his head, and wrenches it to the side to expose him. Preoccupied with how it tickles, Riku seems to forget what Ansem had done with his mouth several times tonight, but is sharply brought back to reality when he feels the pressure of a bite clamp down on the side of his throat. Still, like his leg, it hadn’t hurt more than the initial pinpricks, but he feels that deep warmth of blood trickling down his neck from a deeper wound than what it has any right to feel like- that is, until Ansem’s mouth follows, and laps up each drop with a wild hunger. His hips snap forwards again, though he’s half-hard at best, Ansem still manages to fuck into his prey while he eats it, and Riku is pitifully overwhelmed again. He can’t seem to decide whether to cry or to moan, however, and Ansem relishes in the beautiful sound of it- Riku clamps around him again, squeezing his shaft down while he, Ansem can only presume, somehow manages to climax _again._ Though, Ansem is aware being bitten is a wholly pleasurable experience, so the dual pressure ramming up his cunt and squeezing his neck is probably nigh perfect, especially with the small dosage of medicine ebbing away the pain. Ansem can taste the tranquilizer, but he’s hardly affected by it. He more often tastes it than not, as he cannot remember the last time he ate a meal he’d let entirely feel the experience. The struggle is always fun at first, but gets tedious at the end when he would rather just eat his meal in peace. However, Ansem cannot get carried away tonight. He hardly drinks for half a minute before pulling himself away with a sigh, licking up the last little clots and admiring his handiwork once again. Riku is breathing heavy, his heartbeat slamming against his chest in strain, but nowhere near death. In fact, Ansem still feels like he’s not done testing his new toy. After all- he should probably know the limits of his strength if he was to bring him around like a proper vampire’s pet. He slips out from where he’d been barely still inside him, a trickle of cum and blood in his wake, spreading the lips of his cunt with two fingers to peer at the outstretched hole.

Riku hardly has a thought to tell when Ansem’s weight shifts again, slipping down the bed- that is, until he tucks arms under thighs and buries his face into so, so incredibly over-stimulated folds. His voice is already dead from the whining and crying he had been up too all night, but Riku still rasps his displeasure. Ansem, however, has new blood to lap up, and his own cum squeezing itself out at Riku’s insistence. He muses a tongue in particular over his bruised clit, the oversized thing still erect and ready despite all the piles of abuse that had been laid on it so far. Now that he’d done it a few times, it really is just like sucking cock, and might as well be, though it can’t quite tease his throat. And not all of them do, he hums to himself before reaching to toy with the slick plug still wedged in Riku’s asshole. Pulling and pushing it, stretching out the rim. He does love Riku’s little cunt hole, as he eagerly licks in and around it, loves the way it gets itself wet and ready, but he _wants_ both of them. Next time. Ansem thinks he can get one more good climax from his toy before the poor thing throws in the towel. It’s a good thing he doesn’t need to breathe, because Riku’s also taking his time to cum, edging up over and over again before he loses steam and falls back to the bed in a useless, whiny pile. Maybe he needs something in him, though Ansem is somewhat hesitant to push fingers up where it’s already so inflamed. Just one finger, though. It creeps in almost unfelt between all the abused flesh, but Riku does notice when it hooks around and rubs gentle circles into the inner pad of nerves there. Apparently that’s the ticket, because he’s bucking his hips up again, ramming into Ansem’s flat front teeth when he goes back to suck his clit. He’s so incredibly _desperate_ , Ansem isn’t sure how he’ll contain his own heat afterwards without simply turning his toy over and fucking it again- but alas, there’s a layer of patience he must have with a pet he plans to keep alive. Riku’s hole squeezes against Ansem’s finger in one last pitiful attempt to climax, and Ansem does not let up. It is the weakest orgasm of the night, for reasonable reasons, but it's that last little bit of energy he’d promise he would rip from him. There is nothing else afterwards to give, and Ansem feels that last bit of tension ebb away at Riku’s consciousness. He tries, oh he tries to sit up, his legs flinching in strain, but ends up thumping back into the pillows. 

He feels his legs unbound, but doesn’t have the energy to spare on wakefulness to feel his arms. The next moment of thought, Riku is curled up on his side, tucked under the blanket, a cold hand petting through his hair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; minor namine/riku, references to self harm.

The moment after that, though, Riku is alone. His spine aches like he’s been laying in bed too long, but when he moves there’s a splitting pain in his lower back from being _folded over and fucked like a sleeve,_ not to mention the pulses of discomfort radiating from between his legs. As he stares sidelong to the wall opposite to him, there’s a wide band of light from the window where the curtains have been pulled back, lighting up the room better than he’d have any hope of seeing it last night. Riku’s first thought is to piss, but remembers the only thing he really knows about this place, and unsteadily creeps up on his legs. The next bout of pain he is reminded of is the fact there’s still a plug stuffed up his ass, followed quickly by the layers of bruises across his backside. Immediately, he jolts up from the half-second he spent sitting on the edge of the bed, propped up awkwardly on his, thankfully, uninjured hands. Balanced awkwardly on his only remaining foot as well, Riku stands there for a long moment in pure dejection. Slowly, he looks over his shoulder to the rest of the bed, the rest of the room, but no one is there. Carefully, he leans best he can without falling over to peer under the bed just in case- and he’s greeted to the sight of the bars of a cage underneath it, but the cage is empty. Well, empty of human; it has a beautiful collection of dog toys and pillows, chains and hooks. Attached to one wall is a myriad of belts and clips to chain some poor soul to a machine with a thick dildo strapped to the end, a wand vibrator up beneath it. Hell. 

When Riku stands back up straight again, the weight of what has occured in the last 48 hours hits him like a truck. His stomach fucking sinks- and also growls, because it’s empty. He’d think about puking if there was anything in there, though, so apparently his hunger is a momentary blessing. To get back on track with where he was heading, though. It’s definitely sore to walk on his injured foot, but he takes his time, holding up his weight on the bed as long as he can, and switching to the dressers and shelves that line each wall until he gets to the bathroom. He looks over the little nicknacks Ansem decorates his little torture room with- bottles, jars, dried up flowers. Small animal bones- one of those little sand gardens with the tiny rakes. Nothing about the decorum tells the tales of the screaming that has likely taken place here.

Riku spends an inordinate amount of time sitting on the toilet even after he manages to empty his bladder straining against the burning of his over stretched, inflamed hole. Initial attempts to get the plug out failed when the sore ring of his asshole clenches painfully and his vagina has nothing left to give him to help lubricate anything out, but there’s nothing behind it waiting in the wings, so he opts to leave it there. As much as he could sift through the drawers here to look for lube, Riku is so very tired. It seems smaller and harder, metal maybe, compared to the one he’d been given last night, so apparently Ansem had deigned to downgrade it at least. Sitting is really taking a toll on the bruises on his ass, but the toilet seat is also very cold, so it’s better than nothing. Opposite to the toilet is the bathroom mirror- though it takes up a huge section of wall, which seems narcissistic. But, it means Riku can take a good look at his neck. No more IV sticks into his skin, and each perforation has been dutifully bandaged, though Riku can see spots where blood had welled up through the gauze on his neck. Between the bandages for the missing IV and the hefty bite wound in his neck, that collar rests fairly loose, a lock clipped tight over the buckle. A small tag dangles at the front, but it doesn’t seem to say anything, just a small, circular symbol at its middle. His leg is all taped up too, and like Ansem said, both bites itch terribly. Riku scratches at the parts he can reach, but isn’t so stupid to pull the bandages off. He can, however, itch at the small hole in his wrist, as it had stopped bleeding long enough ago. Except now it’s bleeding again, since he’s picked off the scab. It will join the rest of the scars on his arms.

There had been no talk afterwards of what Riku was or wasn’t supposed to do with his time now. His mind feels incredibly clear- the clearest it’s been since he arrived, although he can’t exactly explain it. When he finally, wearily stands again, he spends a good minute with his head in the sink, greedily gulping water despite the immediate gurgling of his empty stomach, before he shuffles back into the bedroom. Another quick glance has Riku spotting the chair Ansem had been sitting on often last night. Atop it, is a pile of clothes. Not _his_ clothes, but some clothes. He peruses them idly, and since it’s a little cold, does decide to pull them over his sore skin- not to mention he doesn’t _really_ want to walk around the house naked, plug up his ass, bruises for the world to see. The t-shirt is loose and comfortable, but tears nearly strain from Riku’s eyes when he pulls the waistband of the underwear over the bruises on his thighs and when the tight fabric rubs against his sore clit. Inching his way across the bedroom, he stands for a long while at the closed door to the hallway. He hesitates to test the knob, but realizes that if he isn’t meant to leave, it will likely be locked. If they’ve had ‘strays’ over before, he doubts it doesn’t have a way to lock from the outside. To Riku’s utmost surprise, the handle does click open.

There’s a lot more light than he expected to see, but forgets when he arrived, it had been the late evening- and raining. The heavy curtains over the windows were pulled up just enough to let the morning rays sneak into dark corners- god, this house was more than extravagant. Dark woods mix with ivory walls, gold laced crown moulding and, more than anything, absolutely spotless. Riku stands on his one leg at the top of a dark staircase for a long time, peering down at the living area beneath- and sat unawares on the couch facing away from him, Mali is reading a book. Three couches sit in a square, the fourth space a fireplace burning a scent of wood and warmth into the high ceilings above. Mostly, he’s staring at the stairs because he’s going to have to get down them with sore legs and an injured foot- preferably without alerting Mali to his presence. To his benefit and her disinterest, she does not look up from her book even as he pathetically thumps down the stairs. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t expect him to start anything. But she’s going to learn that his moment of being a chewtoy was over, at least for the time being. Once he reaches the back of the couch, there is a moment for her to tilt up her head, but anything else she’d meant to do or say is sharply cut off when Riku slaps the back of her head.

“Eh- e-,” she whips around, but he holds his ground, “EXCUSE ME?”

“Fuck you, the disrespect to ask me _why_.” Riku nearly rears up to whack her again, but manages to hold his hand when she looks seconds away from ripping his arm off. 

“ _What_?!” She shrills, sitting back down on the couch, but craning her neck to the side to stare at him incredulously. “I have no idea what you mean!” and she really honestly does sound confused.

“You-” he hisses, rounding the couch with a limp, “you fucking drug me here and threw me at a psychopath!”

“... Well, you aren’t dead?” Shrugging, she rolls her shoulders like she wasn’t absolutely incensed, pretending to go back to reading. “I would say you should be thankful.”

“Th-, _thankful?_ ” Riku shrills, pressing his weight up on the arm of the couch to stand and scold her, but from enough distance he can’t try to whack her again.

“ _Yes_ , you impudent cur, _thankful_ \- without my intrusion, you would surely be dead on the side of the road at this very moment.”

“No, I really wouldn’t have! I would’ve begged someone else, someone _less insane_ to stop and drive me home, but nooo,” he sneers, “I’m here, and I hurt, and there’s _things up my ass_ -”

“Eugh, that is not information I needed-”

“And I don’t need to have it there so suck it up!”

“You, my child, dug your _own_ grave _,”_ she retorts dryly, giving him a side glance. “I gave you several opportunities to take in the gravity of your situation, but still you failed to resist.” With a swift motion, she is suddenly in his face, and a hooked index finger snags the collar still locked to his neck. “ _This,_ does not go on an unwilling neck.”

He tries to lean back, but she still has him by the collar, with more strength he’d expect. Rasping, “A collar can go on anything-”

“Not _that_ one.”

“What, just because he said it does-” but his thought is interrupted when her hand wanders to the bandages around his neck instead, releasing his collar.

“Took a bite out of you anyways, hmn?”

“Yeah- and what the fuck is with that,” Riku snarks, leaning back up. He nearly makes the mistake of resting his weight on the opposite couch, but is quickly reminded of his sore ass.

“What is up with _what?”_

“When you tell someone they’re going to get ‘eaten’, getting bit and bled is not what is expected.”

There’s a very long moment of silence while she stares him down, flat faced. Very lowly, she asks, “Had he not told you..?”

“... No..?” Riku’s head tilts in confusion, eyes squinting.

She returns the exact same expression. “...He’s a _vampire_ , child.”

“... Oh, you two are absolutely fucking insane, cool, great,” he throws up his arms in defeat, nearly stumbling on his single leg. 

“I’m not lying,” she replies flatly.

“Oh, no, of course not,” Riku turns on heel to walk away to, _somewhere else_ , “I’m sure you both think you’re vampires-”

“No no,” she interrupts, “I am not a vampire-”

“Then what are you, a werewolf?!”

“... _No_?” She sounds so incredibly offended, pressing a hand to her chest, “do I look, smell or sound like a _mutt?_

“Well, you keep calling _me_ a dog, and I’m not, so the feeling is mutual,” and before she can respond, he’s into another hallway. There’s very little to grab onto here to help him walk, but it’s not like he’s in a hurry anywhere. Also, once he gets away from the smell of the fire, Riku smells… food. Now, he was fully capable of handling Mali, but if someone is somewhere else cooking food, it’s _probably_ Ansem. Which Riku isn’t sure he wants to deal with. But wait- there was one more person, that girl, the legs he’d seen skittering away for half a second. It’s a gamble, but. He’s already there. And holy fuck he is hungry.

It’s an open doorway into the kitchen, and Riku’s soul is lifted when he hears quiet, effeminate humming from around the corner. He peers around the corner as quietly as he can, but he meets up with that someone else's gaze immediately. She heard him coming from a mile away. But her expression looks very muted, soft. Big, wide blue eyes with pale blonde strands spilled across her face and shoulders. Riku’s eyes still dart around a minute to see if she was alone, and she speaks, “He’s not up here- he’ll be asleep in the basement until evening.”

“Ah- oh,” Riku mumbles, taking a half step back.

“Wait- you’re not looking for him, are you?”

“No, not really.”

“I’m making food for you! I was going to bring it up, but I guess you woke up, and got up. I don’t think he was expecting you to be up.”

“Y-, yeah,” and he’s been told the magic words, ‘food for you’. He also spots a few counters and an island he can slowly make his way over with- but before he takes a step inside the kitchen, the girl is up to his side with offered palms. She’s quite short and slim, so he hesitates to put his weight on her, but she insists by grabbing his arm. 

“It’s ok! I’m sorry you got hurt,” she speaks softly at him while they make their way across. With a foot, she pulls out a stool at that island he could sit down, but he refuses.

“Sorry, I, I can’t sit down.” Still only in underwear and a t-shirt that drapes down barely past his ass, the girl spies around him to the several dark bruises that litter the top of his thighs.

“Oh- I see, alright,” and instead, she sets him next to the island for him to rest the front of his weight. “You can go lay down again right after- but first.” She had been cooking something on the stove- thick slices of bacon and eggs, a bagel half popped out of the toaster. 

He swallows a thick glob of drool at the thought, but needs to keep talking to distract him from his hunger. “Namine, right?”

“Huh? Yeah! Did Mali tell you?”

“Ansem said your name in passing and I just, remembered it I guess. Do I have to tell you my name?”

“No, it’s ok, Mali said you are Riku. You’re very lucky she gave you your name back, you know.”

“... heh?”

“You gave her your name silly,” and she laughs, a cute little chuckle she stifles with a free palm. It’s going to take a bit longer for the parts she’s cooking, but since he looks so sad with his puppy dog eyes, she reaches over and snags the bagel to offer him.

“... I guess I’m not surprised you are also insane. But you don’t look the part like they do,” Riku mumbles, eyes lidding- until he smells toasted bagel under his nose. Instead of grabbing it with his hands, he simply reaches over and snags it from her hand with his teeth, which elicits another giggle from her.

“Yeah, I bet this is all a little weird.”

“Little,” he scoffs, but is too busy eating to really reply. He gets in a few muffled words, “You a vampire too?”

“Nuh-uh, Ansem is the only vampire in this house.” Turning back to the stove, she is still cooking- and while Riku watches, delicately reaches into the pan to flip hot, frying bacon with her bare fingers. There’s definitely a spatula nearby, but she’s obviously making a point.

After swallowing his mouthful, “But you’re still not human either, huh.” Again, a thick drop of dread sinks deep into his stomach, rolling even that small amount of food he’d chewed down. She seems to catch his nausea, again leaving her cooking behind to fill up a glass of water. 

“Nope, not human either,” she replies very matter-of-factly, “humans don’t usually get to live here long.”

“... Has anyone.. Left… here?”

“Once or twice!” He cannot tell if she’s lying. “But you look like you’ll be stuck for a while.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that.”

“He’s got a tether on you.”

The collar, of course. Riku reaches up to jingle the little tag he couldn’t read, and the lock he hadn’t seen a key for. “I mean, leather is easy to cut through.”

“It sure is! But you also kinda smell like him, too.” Smell like him? He raises an arm to sniff at his armpit- but it just smells like stale sweat, his soapening long since overpowered by the workout that last night was. “I, don’t think human senses are that discerning,” Namine laughs quietly at his antics.

“Something I can’t tell, huh,” Riku mumbles. “But why would I smell like him?”

“Did you drink his blood?”

Did he… drink his blood? “I… I was really hoping that I was wrong, and that it wasn't blood... But doesn’t a vampire drink other people’s blood, not... vice versa?”

“He was thralling you.” Again, she speaks so plainly, like she really believes what she was saying wasn’t absolutely nuts.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You and him are connected now.” With an offered glass of water, Riku sips methodically while Namine returns to her cooking, clicking the stove off.

“... ffffforever?”

“Nah- you’ll be stuck for a couple months, maybe. Er, well, it’s your first time, right?”

“... First time drinking his blood?”

“First time drinking anyones blood.”

“I have... never drank blood.” But he did look like he had to think about it for a second. There was a rough couple of years in his teens.

“So you probably have a high tolerance- well, I already know you have a high tolerance for magic. So, a couple weeks and you’ll be good to go. You know,” she looks over her shoulder, giving him a plain expression. “If you can manage not to drink any more blood.”

Riku returns the look incredulously, “if I ‘manage’? I didn’t really enjoy it the first time.”

“No? You didn’t?” Her eyes half lid, staring dryly with pursed lips.

… Ok wait. He kind of did, didn’t he. He thought he was desperately drinking due to the hunger and dehydration, but that shouldn’t have made him lap it up like an eager dog to whipped cream. Riku’s eyes squeeze shut, uncomfortably readjusting his weight leaned forwards on the island. When his eyes reopen, Namine slides a plate of flood in front of his nose. She neglects to offer him silverware, however. “How come you all keep making dog jokes about me.”

“‘Cause Mali said you were acting like a dog. I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and then you stole that bagel out of my hand.”

Weakly, Riku mumbles, “I was using my arms to rest my weight on the counter…”

“Well? Are you not a puppy?”

...Slowly, he leans down to the plate, snagging a hot piece of bacon in his teeth to nibble on. He is still using his arms to hold his weight, sparing the few times he readjusts to sip at water. The tag of his collar clinks against the counter. “I am not a dog.” And she just laaaughs at that, turning back around to clean up her mess. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Riku asks sheepishly, not wanting for her to be left out for some reason.

“It’s ok, I already ate! I’ve been up for hours.” While he still slowly eats without his hands, she moves into his peripheral vision, peering up with those wide, ethereally blue eyes. “Are you a nice guy, huh, Riku?”

“... Sometimes,” he shrugs, answering honestly. “Before I came in here, I hit Mali in the back of the head.”

Namine doesn’t look like she knows how to deal with that information. “Wow, Ansem really likes you! And she probably deserved it anyways.”

“Well, it is technically her fault I’m here, and my ass hurts, and I can’t sit. And apparently I’ve made some kind of pact with a vampire.”

“Mmhmnn, a good solid slap sounds pretty fair to me! I heard them talking about how she found you on the road.”

“Yeah- I’m suddenly remembering something _I_ heard,” he leans in close at her, eyes squinting. “Namine’s ‘spell’, though I apparently knocked myself out of it.”

She offers him a grimaced smile, eyes averting, but she holds her ground. “I mean, you said I _look_ like I put up a good front about not being ‘insane’, but I do live in this house with these people, and have for a… very long time!”

Riku mumbles to his plate, thinking on the people before him. “Do you like eating the men that Mali brings home, too?”

“No, but I like the other presents Ansem brings home when he’s in a good mood! He brought home cake a couple weeks ago, just for me~” She hums singsong, resting a palm below her jaw with lidded eyes.

Slowly, he leans back to his half empty plate, staring at it forlornly. “I cannot believe I’m believing this right now. You’re just. Some rich murder family living out here in the hills.” Propped up on his elbows, he buries his face into his hands, groaning.

Opening her eyes again, “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it soon! Or you’ll be dead.”

“Oh, please, let me already be dead. I’m having a horrible dying dream after that woman slit my throat and threw me in the back of her car.”

“Nah, that’d be a pretty big mistake to kill you before she got you home,” Namine laughs, going back to cleaning around him. He’s not starving anymore, and while he could and should eat more, she sees that his appetite isn’t ready yet, and gently pulls the plate out from under his nose. He listens to her skip about the kitchen, clattering pot and pans, opening the fridge. He’s completely jolted out of his thoughts, though, when something nice and cold presses up against his ass.

“Ah-hhkk-, aah, ahhh...” he tries not to sound so erotic, but alas, it is _incredibly_ soothing. Hiking up on his uninjured foot, Riku manages to convince himself to rest back down as she follows his squirming away. Peering under his armpit at her, she looks back up with an incredibly amused expression, holding what he assumes is an ice pack wrapped in a wet cloth to his sore ass cheeks.

“Well, now I can tell why he gave you these, I guess.”

“Buh- what, what did I do wrong-”

“Oh no, you didn’t do anything wrong, you did everything right! Maybe a little _too right_.” 

Slowly, he reaches back behind himself to take the ice pack from her, and she does give it. However, she then takes to tugging up the side of his underwear. Both uncomfortable for the sake of the elastic raking across a particularily heated welt, but also because- “Hey-” he tries to choke back his urge to kick her like a horse, “now I know you and your murder family lives here in the woods with no human contact, and Ansem probably hasn’t taught you any real people skills, but I’m going to have to ask you to not try and undress me without warning-” 

Namine seems to ignore his words, reaching to the decorated flat of metal she can see seated in his asshole. “I don’t know why he does this,” she scoffs, “me and Mali always tell him that you can’t just leave these in here! This hole has a use other than for his dick.”

“Why am I even trying-” Riku sighs. “And- anything my holes are for normally, I really don’t think he cares about.”

“Well, he’ll care when you shit the bed in a couple days-”

“I was not planning on leaving it there for a couple days?!” But she interrupts that thought by prying at it with her fingers. He flinches, pulling away from her, “Man, please, I already tried to get it out- it’s, I need to.. Like it’s, all dry…” His face flushes with heat at this conversation, at his _entire situation_ , but much like his bath time, Namine’s unresponsiveness to his embarrassment does make it slightly less embarrassing.

“Alright,” she nods to herself, thankfully releasing it, but Riku doubts that’s where she’s gonna call it quits. While she sets about to rummaging around again, he leans so far over the counter his face presses to the cool stone surface, his arm reaching around and pressing that icepack to the worst of his bruising. When she returns, she pushes his hands away and tugs his underwear nearly to his knees. 

“Is this really the kind of thing we do in a kitchen..?”

“Ansem has fucked someone in every single room in this house- and there are 13 rooms, not including the basement, I suppose.” He’s not sure what she’s got, but her fingers are slicked now, and she gently pries around his poor hole until it starts to give up its prize.

“Where he’s sleeping, h-, ahh, huh..? No one goes, hff, goes down there?” Riku tries desperately not to strain, but everything down there feels awful.

“No one that comes back up! So I couldn’t tell you if he was fucking them down there, or y’know. Just eating them.”

“Duly noted, do not- hgg- aah, fuck, do not go into the b-, ah, shit,” it’s hard not to stutter when she moves it around, but with a few more tugs, it pulls tight the widest part and pops out with a wet noise. Again, Riku’s face slaps down on the counter, his asshole clenching terribly. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“No problem! I’ll clean this and make sure it ends up back with Ansem.”

“Maybe I’d rather you didn’t,” reaching back again, he tugs up his underwear and continues icing his ass.

“Ohh, no, he’d punish you for losing his things, for sure.”

“Aren’t I also just ‘thing’ to him.”

“I would say, you’re a step or maybe even two up from even this fancy metal butt plug.” Which solidifies Riku’s thoughts that it was different than the one he'd initially had shoved up him. He leans his head up enough to look at her, and sure enough she’s showing it off- shiny, silver metal, and a bright sapphire jewel in the base. “Ah, I see now. Decoration,” Riku mumbles, slowly standing straight. 

“Yeah, but he really needs to learn to settle for like, necklaces or piercings.”

“I dunno, you look pretty pleased for having just toyed around with my asshole.”

That statement catches her for a loop, and Riku swears she blushes a little herself. “I- I don’t often get to play, I just sort of, hear everything, you know… I guess I should thank you for letting me,” nervously, or play nervously, she wrings her fingers together, gaze drifting to the side.

“Well, count us even, because getting it out is one less current problem I have to deal with.” Slowly, his gaze tracks around the kitchen, far more bright than the rest of the house he has seen so far. He sees a doorway, too, and it leads to a beautiful looking patio. Outside, the plants around a beautiful but seemingly untouched furniture set flourish a bright green in the sun and from the rain they must’ve gotten a few days ago. “So, what’s stopping me from going outside and just walking away again?”

“Other than your own sensibilities?” She gestures to his semi-nudity. “Nothing physically. Go ahead and walk.” And, well, she doesn’t sound like she’s lying. So, Riku stands up and hobbles towards the doorway. “I guess your broken foot will also be a deciding factor in this.”

“Yeah, it’s not helping,” but he opens that garden door, and waltzes outside anyways.

It’s a beautiful morning. The sun hits him warm and comfortable while a breeze sneaks up between his legs. It smells like rain still, so maybe it had even sprinkled last night, but the sky now was dotted with the sparse cloud between a sea of soft blue. He stares out around them, spying over where a short trellis marks exactly where this patio lays in a section of flowery bushes. Beyond here is a short expanse of grassland, before becoming rows and rows of trees. There’s an opening in the patio fence, so Riku becomes through it, into the grass, slowly shuffling out towards those trees. As Namine said, nothing comes to stop him. His foot absolutely aches from the strain, but he’s made the worst coping mechanism out of walking out his pain, even as it cripples his body. Walking away from his problems. It really is all he knows.

He gets thirty feet into the trees before something has him stopping, however. Riku cannot put his finger on what exactly it was, though. A soft voice creeps into his ears, ‘come back now’. Desperately, he tries to take a step forward, but the voice choruses into itself, ‘come back now, come back now.’ Overhead, a raven flies into the trees and warbles at him softly, a gentle cooing, its beak turning back towards the mansion behind him. Looking back over his shoulder, his vision spins and blurs, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s turned on heel, pacing back towards the house. 

Once he’s within the grassline again, the voices and the spinning stops. So, he’s free to _try_ to walk away, sure. But like the fog that blurred his senses to stupidity the nights before, something overtakes him and drags him back. Which is nerve wracking, and as he stands there in the yard, bathing in sunlight, pressing his palms to his face and screaming. 

His mental breakdown is interrupted, however, by snuffled breathing and a big, wet nose pressing into his side. Peeking between his fingers, Riku isn’t sure how the massive beast had managed to creep up on him, but he was also busy getting mentally fucked a few moments ago. A dog, a huge, grey blob of skin and muscle- some kind of mastiff, its massive head up to his hips. It drools down his leg, snuffling into his thigh, offering him a few comforting licks in this trying time. A collar is tight between fat rolls of skin, Riku leans to spy the words ‘Pete’ in bold letters. “Heya Pete,” he mumbles, and hearing his name, the big stupid thing rears up his head, his eyes as wide as they can be behind the skin of his face. Slowly, Riku lets his arms fall, and offers the back of his hand for the unknown canine to give him a sniff, but he immediately slaps his massive head into his palm, demanding to be pet. 

Riku spends an inordinate amount of time playing with his skin, but that raven flies by again, and apparently Pete has places to go. Without much else to do, Riku slowly follows, and when the dog notices him following, he occasionally stops and watches, waiting for him to catch up. 

Mali is at the front door, staring off at the driveway when Pete rounds the corner, Riku shortly behind him. “... And when did you get outside! Cohorting with my vicious guard dog, I see,” she snarks. There’s a tall walking stick of some kind in her hand, and the raven that had been stalking him earlier flies down and lands upon its curved end. 

"Vicious..?" Riku mumbles, looking at him standing there so complacently. "He just lumbered up to me like a big goof."

"I let him have a sniff of your clothes nights ago- I assure you, he would tear off your hand without a second's thought without my guidance. Did you find what you were looking for outside?"

“Namine said I could go for a walk, so I did,” he mumbles hoarsely, tired eyes staring at his feet while he walks. Once he’s close enough, he looks up to her raven, a weary eyebrow raising. There’s no way it was the raven who’d been fucking with his head earlier, right? That would be insane. Like everything else he’d been told today. And the fact something had denied his desire to walk away in the first place. “Did your raven come to fuck with me?”

“No, my dear Diablo was just making sure you knew the way home- that would be Ansem calling you back.”

“Terrible,” Riku rasps, squinting at the bird who has set to preening himself on his stick. “Did you really name your raven Diablo.”

“God heavens no- his _mother_ named him,” they both look up at him in offense.

“... Why would a mother name their kid the _devil_.”

“Have you met a baby raven? They can be quite hellborne in their mannerisms. Though, honestly, that would be _all_ children,” she muses, bringing up hand to scratch a clawed index finger into the soft feathers of his neck.

Riku stands there a long, silent time while she is still busy looking out over the yard. When he moves past her towards the door, she does not stop or follow him, though Pete does wobble back onto his stubby legs and inside of the house.

It’s the living room again, having made a circle around the house. 13 more rooms, apparently, but what’s the point in exploring. Anything he’d been given last night to abate his pain has fully left him, and once he reaches the thick, shag carpeting behind and beneath the couches, Riku slowly crouches down and lays flat against the floor. For his comfort, the big dog joins him, but thankfully does not crawl all over him and crush him, simply resting his warm back to Riku’s side.


	5. Chapter 5

Ansem knows his pet has wandered around his new home a bit after he’d gone to bed in the morning, but is slightly surprised to walk into the front room with a bottle in his hand to see Riku lying face down, sprawled across the rug. Before he can ask what his pet is up to, Mali interrupts his thoughts, sneering at him from where she was reading on the nearby couch, “What is this, Ansem? I know you are ignorant to the needs of the mortals, but you truly thought this was correct?”  
Shrugging, he makes his way away from the hallway and to the side of the couch, eying Riku as he remains physically unmoved to his approach. “He is fine. If you had seen and heard him as I had when beating him, you would’ve surely done the same.”  
“Oh, I did, hear him, me and poor Namine both,” she scoffs, tilting from where she sits to peer in the direction of his prone body behind the couch. “Laying there asleep, all day! You’ve already broken your toy.”  
“He is not asleep.”  
She stops and stares, but Riku still does not react. As she does not respond more than to continue sneering, Ansem crouches down beside, gently running his hand down Riku’s back, until he’s pulling back his hair to inspect the bandages beneath. Sure enough, when the bangs are brushed away, Riku is looking up at him wearily. “... He’s been laying there for hours!” Mali scoffs, “Not even rising when Namine offered him something to drink.”  
“Pouting,” Ansem tsks, setting the bottle he’d been holding down beside them before fully sitting down on crossed legs. “Rise, pet.”  
It's quite late out now, so Riku struggles to look back at him in the dark of the living room. “Mn,” he mumbles, unmoved, “what for.”  
“I’m certain you’re quite stiff by now.”  
“Yeah,” Riku nods, slowly shifting his arms underneath his chest to prop up his weight better. “What’s up.”  
Ansem and Mali both watch incredulously as their captive, bruised and beaten, lays there next to his attacker like they were common friends. “I am, now,” Ansem replies, humoured.  
Riku nods, looking tiredly between the two of them and their confused expressions. “... Can I do something for you?”  
“Is Namine…?” Ansem asks, looking over his shoulder to Mali, but she shakes her head no. No disorienting magic. Reaching over to weave a hand into Riku’s hair, the human even lids his eyes pleasantly to be pet. “You’re a strange little thing. Why are you laying on the floor, and not perhaps, bed?”  
“I went for a walk that was apparently illegal, according to you, or so said Mali. And when I got back I laid down here and gave up.”  
“Gave up?”  
“Yeah. Like, I’m tired, and sore. I laid down and gave up.” But he seems to be perking up when Ansem pets through his hair, rubs beneath his jaw.  
“I will look at your injuries,” Ansem gives him the benefit of telling before doing and shifts down the carpet until he can reach Riku’s ass. He runs a cold hand down the bare skin below his underwear, tsking quietly. Reaching a hand below Riku’s belly to encourage him to raise it, Ansem uses the other to pull his underwear down entirely, looking over the swathes of red and deepening purple. Some scabbing, but mostly just bruises, and many of which look like they’re beginning to heal. None of it seems to be blistering. Riku flinches when his asscheeks are spread, a finger running down the empty hole, “And where is what I had left gone?”  
“Ah-, uh…” Riku stutters, thinking about Namine mentioning ‘punishment’, and his ass currently laid bare to get hit. “I just, I took it out when I had to go to the bathroom in the morning. I can’t remember where I put it down.” Because as much as he doesn't want to get slapped, either, Riku can’t help but try to cover for the girl he barely knows.  
As if threatening, Ansem runs the flat of his palm against his still somewhat sore skin. “A terrible lie.”  
“I-,” Riku stiffens, but there’s nowhere to crawl or struggle, so he simply lays back down.  
Fortunately, Ansem just keeps rubbing gently over his ass. “Namine returned it to me sheepishly as I arose to the kitchen. I did her the favour of giving it to her instead for her indiscretions,” he rumbles, “no matter how much she warbled about your biological needs. I was aware you hadn’t eaten properly in days,” he can’t seem to help but tease his hole with an index finger, “I was aware you wouldn’t be using this. But, alas, I’ll be finding you an exercise of patience.”  
“It was uncomfortable,” Riku mumbles. “My ass already hurts from.. y’know. I was… I prefer if it wasn't, worse, if it didn’t… have to be.”  
“As I see. It is now slipped up someone else, so I will not be replacing it, for now. I’ll find other things to make you interesting to look at.”  
“So I was right,” Riku mumbles to himself, laying his face back down on the carpet, but Ansem hums a questioning tone. “A decoration, it had that… jewel on the end.”  
“Yes,” Ansem replies, still running his hands over him, but spares a moment to tug his underwear back over his ass. Riku tries not to flinch too much when one of those wandering hands passes over the indents of his starved out ribs, tickling him. “Here, I have made you something.” He offers that bottle to Riku’s face, but he stares at it warily.  
“I don’t have a lot of trust in anything you’re gonna want me to drink anymore.”  
“Do you have a choice?”  
“That’s up to you, big guy,” but Riku is trying to get back up on his arms again. Since his hands are occupied, Ansem pops the lid and Riku leans over to sniff. “Well, that sure smells like fruits. So, no blood chugging, but that doesn’t put me in the clear.”  
Ansem isn’t pouring it down his throat this time, either. “It’s just a smoothie. Namine had told me you hadn’t eaten since this morning.”  
“It’s hard to feel hungry when everything hurts,” Riku mumbles, dejectedly.  
“Then you would like to drink this.”  
“So it’s not just a smoothie,” Riku sighs, head listing to the side.  
“There is some liquid tylenol mixed in.”  
“Oh,” Riku perks up, and since Ansem is still offering it, tips it into his lips. Dutifully, Ansem does upturn it for him to sip down. Now that Ansem has mentioned it, Riku can taste what he assumes is tylenol, but nothing else terribly bitter or salty triggers his brain for other drugs he’d accidentally drank in the past. And, despite what he says, Riku is pretty hungry, and thirsty. Once he’s chugged it down, he sheepishly glances to Ansem, who has been staring like a hawk, “Thanks.”  
“You are welcome,” and he looks pleased how polite Riku remains to be. “I apologize that I would not let you wander back into the woods.”  
“That’s ok, it really fucked up my foot worse.” Weirdly enough, after laying all day, his foot wasn’t actually hurting too badly at the moment, and he flexes out his toes idly.  
“Yes, this was my reasoning.”  
“So, if my foot wasn’t hurt, I could’ve gone further?”  
“Our land runs for ten more acres in that direction, so yes. You might’ve had a guard to join you, but.”  
“But, then, at the end of the property..?”  
“I would encourage you to return. I hate to have to inform you of this, but even if I wasn’t terribly attached to you, you’ve seen and experienced things here that I cannot readily allow to be known to the public.” Riku is somewhat propped up next to his lap, so Ansem casually pets over his head. 'Terribly attached to him', apparently, he pulls up the bottom of Riku’s shirt, scratching his fingers over his back. Since there’s new weight in his stomach, Riku is eager to lay there a bit longer, especially when Ansem starts to scratch.  
“Mnf- yeah. Everyone says you’re a vampire. I mean, everyone being the two other people here, but.”  
“That I am.”  
Setting his head back down, Riku replies muffled, “You gotta understand why I can’t believe that.”  
“I understand, but you must equally see with your eyes and mind what lays in your reality now. You’ve even asked me, how at a distance else could I summon you back to my side?”  
“I’m having a really inconvenient trauma response that you’re taking credit for?”  
He laughs at that, his low, rumbling voice rising a red to Riku’s face. “Humans do love trying to justify what they do not understand.”  
“It’s our greatest trait. Pretending things are fine.”  
“Ah,” Ansem hums, momentarily looking to the side, “not many here pretend things are fine as you seem to be doing. You sit here with me as I’ve treated you quite harshly- your body lays in a strait where you are unable to anything but lay here.” Momentarily, a hand runs down his ass again.  
“... Well, but I could probably kneel,” Riku speaks without realizing the hidden insinuation.  
“... would like to see you kneel,” Ansem does not let that slide, and if Riku’s face was red before, he’s definitely blushing now.  
“Welp, I’m sure you will, if you want to. Hell, I think I’m getting the hint now- when you want to,” Riku wheezes, struggling to readjust his weight.  
Apparently, the idea is in his head now, and Ansem rises to his feet. Riku watches in wait, and sighs, hefting up onto his arms, groaning to end up on his knees, but loses his balance and thumps back down painfully when his ass hits the back of his feet. His expression warped to great distaste, Riku hisses, “Apparently I lied, I cannot kneel.”  
“Allow me to assist you,” Ansem speaks with an air of humour, reaching down to pull him up by a shoulder and back onto his hands and knees. Rounding to the couches beside them, Riku crawls to follow with better else to do, but then remembers a detail. Mali, who is in her own world, is still reading a book, but is now on a couch closer to the fire. She’s stretching her legs until her feet are nearly getting licked by flames. Riku pauses for a moment to stare at her warily, but Ansem just sits down on the opposite couch and waits. “Come..?” But his tone is more like a joke than a legitimate command.  
Still, Riku shuffles over. He still isn’t entirely sure how to sit once he’s over here, though- but Ansem makes his intent known when he tugs him up by a bicep and lays his front half over his lap. His knees are still on the ground, but it’s a different position than lying prone on the hard floor, so his spine cracks pathetically, satisfyingly, Ansem loves the face Riku makes to that. “Ouhf, fuck,” he hisses, muffled from Ansem’s pants. Ansem’s pants. His face is in a crotch. Slowly, Riku tilts his head up, swallowing roughly. Ansem expects him to be looking up at his face, but Riku is very much looking at where his dick is lying beneath his clothes.  
“Normally I’d be called the pervert but, here you seem to be.”  
“Hey man, you put me here.”  
“Oh, hardly,” Ansem teases, “I was trying to be kind and rest you poor ass, after Mali has scolded me for beating you so mercilessly.”  
“Oohh, ho,” Riku gestures very awkwardly with his hands, trying to hold his balance not to knock his head into Ansem’s crotch, “you’re going to play innocent now.”  
“I have fully admitted to beating you, which hardly seems innocent.”  
“Trrruuuuue.” Silence lingers a moment while Riku continues to stare, and Ansem opts to reach down and unzip his fly. “I-uhh,” Riku stutters, trying to shift his weight back, but just sort of carpet burns his knees.  
“You seem intent to see it.” He holds his fly momentarily, but his other hand is reaching up to pet Riku’s head, relishing when his heart pumps fresh, embarrassed blood flushing his cheeks, the tips of his ears peeking out of his hair. Riku is still keenly aware of Mali behind him, but Ansem knows well, so long as there's no screaming, she doesn’t give a mote of care. If Riku wants to be embarrassed though, it really only makes him look cuter.  
“It’s just- it’s, it was in my face, and, I,” Riku’s sentence trails off, his hands folding to rest under his chest. “You already made it pretty clear where this was going. Unless I’m wrong again. Telling exactly what you people want has not been easy.”  
“I had not directly demanded anything of you.”  
“But I’m sure you’d prefer. And like, I could say no, and you’d just, find something else to… do.”  
“I am quite single-minded,” Ansem agrees and continues to unbutton his pants, pulling them and his underwear down enough that Riku can see the base of one very thick shaft buried in a neatly trimmed nest of silvery pubes. “I have many things I would like to do to you.”  
Riku swallows a dry lump in his throat at the thought of that thing tearing him up last night. “So, cut the formality,” he speaks lowly. “And I guess I was… a little curious. I didn’t get to see yesterday.”  
“That you did not,” Ansem purrs, reaching into his waistband to pull out a relatively soft but so very large cock. It rests flaccid against his thigh, even as it’s still somewhat pulled up by the waistband on his underwear. “Is it as you visualized?”  
“... Yeah, pretty much.” Well, no, he thought it was somehow even bigger, but he wasn’t about to imply that to his face.  
Leisurely, he strokes himself in Riku’s face until the blood starts metaphorically pumping, and it reaches up to poke his chin. “It has no hope of fitting in your mouth.”  
“No…” Riku swallows again, staring down his nose at the head dipping close to his lips. The foreskin pulls back with each languid stroke, spotlessly clean tip to base. Ansem still smells like that apothecary scent, though there’s a humid, soapy scent drifting out from his underwear now, so Riku assumes he showered when woke up. When Ansem prods his cock under his nose, it's interrupted by a thick, musky scent filling up his nose from the smallest bead of precum, so he can only guess how aromatic his cum is going to be. With his other hand still in his hair, Ansem pulls down on Riku’s head, forcing it downwards to rub himself up and down the side of his cheek.  
“You’re pretty enough, I might just cum right here,” Ansem purrs, his hips rolling as he uses Riku’s face as pressure more than anything.  
Now, that’s better than choking down his cock, but when the head of it rests right below his eye, Riku catches a look in Ansem’s eyes like he might consider jamming it into the socket there. It’s hard to move his head from Ansem’s grip, but he manages enough to open his mouth, carefully lolling the head of it into his lips.  
“Grip the base with your hands,” Ansem rumbles, but releases his hair. Riku does obey, shifting up his arms with both hands to wrap around the base, his hands barely making it around. Sure enough, there’s no way it’s getting anywhere but an inch or two without digging into his teeth, but Ansem leans back anyways, draping his arms across the back of the couch and watching. His cock is completely hard now, so Riku assumes he must be doing something right, even if it’s just his pretty face, but Ansem’s expression hardly changes. It doesn't help that it's so dark in here, Riku can hardly see his face at all beyond his faintly glowing amber eyes. There’s the occasional crease in his nose, a flicker of eyelids when Riku sucks his tongue in hard to the bottom of it, but this doesn’t seem to be working.  
Riku pops off with the wet sound, heavily saliva dripping down his lips. It takes him a second to gasp up his breath, idly musing the tip with his lips. “Am I going to even get you off?” He sighs, almost dejectedly.  
“Eventually,” Ansem purrs, “but this is much softer than I am used to.”  
“If I try to get any more in my mouth, I’m going to scrape it with my teeth.”  
“I would not bite me on purpose, but I’ve forced myself in significantly less willing mouths.”  
So, what’s a little teeth to those who claim they are a vampire... And Riku casually remembers kicking him in the head to absolutely no response. It’s not going to be great for Riku, of course, but, what ever is. He dips it past his lips again, his hands still gripped around where he has no hope of reaching. When he worries less about where his teeth are, Riku can get a lot more of where he’d like his tongue to be, but breathing becomes a hell of a chore. Riku’s eyes flick up to Ansem’s, however, and while he’s still very much staring down at his pet’s lovely face, he looks just a touch more interested in the situation. Riku tries to focus on ‘eventually’, but he keeps running out of breath. The relatively quiet room is filled with the sounds of a warm, crackling fire, and the soft, wet choking of someone sucking back less than half the length of a ten-inch cock.  
He’s a bit too focused, staring down at his hands when Ansem reaches down and tugs him off by his hair. There’s a muffled ‘sorry’, but Ansem shakes his head, “No, back up.” He’s confused, but he does as he’s told, and Ansem replaces Riku’s hands with his own to finish himself off. With his head held steady by a fist rooted to his hair, Riku prepares himself for what he assumes is coming, and with a rough sound from Ansem’s throat, relatively lukewarm shots of cum rope down his face. Thick and musky, just as he predicted, Riku’s eye squints shut when a particularly heated pulse glops down over his eyelid, down his nose, a little up his nose when he accidentally breathes in too hard. For the last few shots, Riku feels his head tugged forwards again, and the head of Ansem’s cock is between his lips to feed him. It doesn’t taste great, but Riku sucks it back aways, ready to swallow before Ansem speaks- “Hold it on your tongue for me.” Riku’s expression warps to even more distaste, but does his best to hold onto it, even as Ansem’s cock continues to cum deep past his teeth. After a significantly longer time than Riku was used to, Ansem rests his head back on the couch momentarily, wringing out the last few drops into Riku’s mouth before releasing him. When he looks back down, Riku’s looking up at him, disheveled and confused, sweat and cum sticking the errant strands of his bangs across his face. Ansem thinks he's lit quite beautifully in the darkness, his pale skin and hair catching the flicker of the fire behind them. “Show me,” he commands. Riku’s a moment confused, but then remembers the thick globs of cum in his mouth and drops jaw. He holds his tongue back to try to not drool any, but Ansem’s fingers are in his mouth in a second, dragging the wriggling thing out until cum is oozing down his chin and onto Ansem’s lap. “Naughty,” he purrs, releasing his tongue.  
“I tried not to,” Riku mumbles, raising a hand to try to get some of the cum out of his eye, but Ansem pushes his head back down.  
"I’m not done looking at you,” Ansem rumbles, reaching up to brush Riku’s bangs from his face. With an eye straining shut, the singular teal gaze remaining between a sea of his seed nearly has Ansem thinking about getting hard again, but he abates his lust for now. With a thumb, he reaches down and rubs his cum from Riku’s eye, taking what he’d rubbed off and putting it back to Riku’s lips. “Now, you may swallow.”  
Most of it had fallen out of his mouth, though. He licks off Ansem’s thumb as it lingers near his mouth, but catches Ansem eying down at the glops slowly sinking into the material of his pants. With a soft sigh, Riku leans down and laps at it uneagerly, though now it leaves little wet spots of drool. “You made this mess yourself,” he rasps.  
Ansem rewards him with more petting, “I always do, but I expect my slaves to clean up my messes- this is what they are for. You, however, are not a slave.”  
Riku leans back to that, reaching an arm to rub his face again, and is not stopped this time. He pulls up the neck of his shirt, uncaring to how messy it gets afterwards. “Then why’d you tell me to…?”  
“I said you may, not that you had to. You decided what that meant to you. A good dog.”  
Maybe Riku will be smart enough to catch all the little nuances of Ansem’s speech, but he isn’t holding his breath. So, he’d rather just do anything he’s even casually told to do. “Sure,” Riku replies lowly, slowly sitting back down on his ass despite the pain, swallowing around the bitter taste of cum that sits in his mouth.  
“Why are you so obedient, my pet?” Ansem asks, casually putting himself back in his pants. He doesn’t seem to care about the white cum stains over his black slacks. It’s not the first time, and will not be the last time, and at least it wasn’t blood, which really will stain.  
Riku’s eyes half lid dejectedly at the thought, expression darkening. “Because you’ve all told me most people die here.”  
“And you think that obedience secures your life?”  
“I don’t know what else would.”  
“I’ve had some slaves come begging at my heel without prompting, without speaking. They sit up high and shake their asses to invite me, tears in their eyes. I would step in the room and find them suckling at my cock in desperation.”  
Riku can only frown to that, his gaze drifting to the side. “So I’m not trying hard enough.”  
“No-” But Riku keeps speaking.  
“And I don’t really care to, either. So just kill me if it’s going to take more effort than this,” and he siiiighs, leaning back on his palms and exaggeratedly rolling his head over his shoulders. He slips his ass between his calves to try to glean any kind of comfort while he sits, though it doesn’t hurt as much as it ought to. Maybe he can blame his poor clit pulsing with heat after sucking cock for a solid twenty minutes without touching himself at all.  
It takes Ansem a long while to reply to that. Riku is not looking at him, but Ansem hears his pet's poor panicked heartbeat grow quicker and quicker with each passing second. “Always repeating myself. What have I said-”  
Riku once again interrupts. “That you don’t intend to kill me.”  
“So it would imply I would only accidentally do so.”  
“If you’re a vampire- or even if you’re just a crazy guy in the woods, how do I know you don’t have some temper that'd gut me when I don’t perform? You don’t really exude confidence after last night.” His gaze travels up from the floor, up Ansem’s chest, but lingers just out of reach of his face.  
“You look quite alive to me. I could’ve bled you dry.”  
“I’m sure you thought about it.”  
“I think about many things,” Ansem rumbles darkly. Leaning forward, he meets with Riku's gaze, an ominous smirk at the edges of his lips. “I’m sure you do as well. I think you fantasize me ripping your throat out and letting you bleed to death on the floor like a yearling pig.”  
Riku’s eyes shut again, head drifting to the side. Yeah, he kind of does think about it. Why is he here, in the murder house. Other than because he couldn’t have walked away if he wanted too- but he didn’t have to come back inside. He knew he shouldn’t have gone home with Mali. He could’ve ran at his first life-preserving instinct, but instead he willfully ignored it. “You like me because I’m not entirely afraid of you killing me?”  
“That, and because you are pitifully attractive.” Ansem reaches down with a hand to catch his cheek, pulling his head up until Riku’s eyes flick open again to stare up at him.  
“Ah, I’m flattered,” Riku hums, holding the eye contact, but his expression is dry.  
“I’m sure you hear this often.”  
“I hear it until I’m caught in bed. Then I’m getting screamed at and hit,” mumbling, Riku’s gaze drifts again at the thought of guys who’d brought him home and screeched at him for being… well, you know.  
“Then all who have scorned you in the past have left you at my heel, and I thank them for your misery.”  
“Being miserable isn’t great, man.”  
“You forgot about misery last night,” Ansem purrs.  
Riku’s lips purse, nose wrinkling in distaste. “I don’t know if I would-... I mean, like…” Sure, maybe a little. Or he forgot the misery of being alive compared to the misery of pain tearing apart his skin. Or the moments he was unconscious, drugged out of the situation while Ansem used him like a doll. “Did you mean what you said?”  
“When?’  
“A life of decision,” Riku mumbles.  
“As we’ve made a pact, I will not rescind on it in time that you as well do not.” Reaching down, Ansem snags the clip of his collar and tugs it taut to Riku’s neck, a thumb brushing over its tag.  
Instinctively, Riku’s back straightens when his new, apparently permanent tether is tugged. “Well, that means I do what you say, then, anytime you say it.”  
“Only as I command it. I like you as a dog- and sometimes you let a dog sniff about in the yard without command. So long as he remembers his training when it is required. But, sometimes a dog misbehaves, and you scold it, but you don’t slit its throat at the first indiscretion, or really any indiscretion, if you love it.”  
“... Alright, I think I’m starting to get it,” Riku nods to himself, eyes drifting to the legs beneath him, the drool and cum stains on his pants. He wipes at his face again, licking up his lips. Itching at his neck, and Ansem runs a finger over the red, inflamed skin around the sticky tape of his bandages.  
“And what do you want, Riku?”  
He does not respond immediately, but his expression wanders through his thoughts as Ansem watches. “Other than decisions?”  
“I can tell, despite all you say, you have preferences. What do you want me to do for you?”  
“... Mnn.. I didn’t bring any clothes with me,” he muses, looking down at his now very sticky t-shirt. “I don’t know if you keep a lot of clothes from... Other people, but.”  
“Not much, no. We can get you more clothes. Despite how it might be easier to reach what I want if you were more often nude or nearly so, I find some outfits more erotic than nudity. Allow me, then, to choose some we both prefer.”  
Riku nods to that, sounds very fair. “And do we really have to stay here forever now?”  
“Here? In the house? On our property?”  
“Yeah. I like… going out and seeing… things.” Not that he’s fully explored the house, yet. Maybe it could occupy him, but he’s spent a lot of his youth wandering the streets of his town to people watch.  
“So long as you are with me, we can go to places. Surely enough- if I plan to find you clothes, we are obligated to go outside.”  
“... Well, no, online shopping exists,” Riku gestures with his hands the best he can without dropping his weight. “But I guess if you want to make sure it fits. Or maybe you don’t want delivery people here?”  
“We have a P.O box, Pete would maul any delivery drivers...” Ansem hums, head tilting.  
Riku stares up at him at that statement. “Now, I know Mali jokes, but now you’re also saying that he is vicious.”  
“He.. is?”  
“... But he was so… We vibed for like, hours.”  
Ansem shrugs, giving Riku a raised eyebrow, “He was told of you. But I cannot let people into my yard unbeknownst to me. Pete has caught several of my toys before.”  
“Terrifying. What is he, 300 pounds.”  
“Ohh, hardly, maybe 175.” Shifting his weight, Ansem moves to stand, carefully avoiding bowling Riku over with his knees. As he steps by, however, Ansem reaches down to coax him into standing. “Come with me. You need to shower now- though you’d needed to before, as well.”  
“Ohp- musky husky,” Riku mumbles so barley under his breath while he strains to stand, but with Ansem help, or rather with Ansem entirely hefting up his weight, he easily becomes standing. Wordlessly, Ansem heads towards the stairs, and while Riku looks around a moment, he does traipse after him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; dysphoria implications, forced shaving/waxing, forced body piercing(like jewelry), biting/blood-drinking, unfitting penetration

Ansem leads them up to the bigger bathroom, the one with the tub with walls in black, marbled granite and heated floors, Riku finds with cold bare feet. However, Ansem simply deposits Riku there without a word, ushering him inside with a gesture of his hand before walking further down the hall. Thankfully, Riku does remember the last thing he said, but also because what the hell else do you do in a bathroom but shower. The taps are slightly complicated, and he freezes off his arm a few times trying to get a hang of the dial. It gives him the idea to run the cool water over his ass, though. The position is hard on his legs, balancing his back end over the edge without falling in, and the feel of the water is both blissful from the temperature and horrible from the droplets raining down like little needles. Honestly, though, once he’s done cooling down for a bit, ass is remarkably unsore. He has another thought about the bandages on his body and decides to peel off the one on his calf and his broken foot when he decides they hardly hurt. His legs have the barest scraps now, somehow, and while his foot is idly sore, it does not feel overtly broken. His neck, however, Riku’s a bit too scared to pull off, so he supposes they’re going to get more than a little wet. He takes his time sitting in the warm water and delicately washing through his hair, itching at his scalp. He finds a bottle of ‘gentle touch’ soap he wishes he would’ve seen a few days ago, but takes advantage of it now for his sore ass.

By the time Ansem returns, Riku has barely become clean, gingerly maneuvering around his sore flesh, but Ansem needs some time to set out the _things_ he’s brought to play with. Riku startles when he steps out and Ansem is just standing there, waiting. Sputtering a quiet apology, Ansem silences him with a gesture of his palm. “If I needed you to hurry, I would’ve told you so. I far prefer to give you the time to become clean rather than miss a spot.”

“Well, I can’t assure you I didn’t miss a spot,” Riku mumbles, looking over himself. He did try, though, so maybe that’s worth something. 

Ansem bridges the gap between them in a single step, snagging him by his bicep to turn him about and look at the handiwork, even giving him a careful sniff. “No, you have washed well.”

“Oh, good.” Without properly thinking, Riku shakes out his head like a dog, his wet hair flicking water across the room and Ansem’s front. He bites his lip to try not not laugh when he looks up at Ansem casually wiping water off his face.

“Bad puppy,” he rumbles, but still seems humoured. To protect himself from further outbursts, he wraps a towel around Riku’s unruly long hair, even giving him a little rubbing to soak up the wet. Now Riku can’t see- but once Ansem’s done assaulting him with the towel, he’s grabbed by his arm again and slowly coaxed towards the sink counter- it is also relievingly, painfully cold when he is turned to press against it. Since everything is still a surprise, Riku yelps when Ansem slides a hand up his chest and delicately pinches a nipple between his fingers. “How well do you feel these?”

He is unable to stop his hand from whipping up to whack at the intrusion, though it does nothing to dissuade Ansem from gently rolling it in his fingers. In fact, as always, it only seems to encourage him. Riku’s voice cracks pitifully, “I mean, not like someone.. Normal?”

“Normal is not an accurate measurement to me,” he speaks flatly, cupping his opposite hand around Riku’s back to force him forwards as he squishes his nipple around to relative hardness. If Riku won’t answer it directly, he’ll see for himself, and Riku does seem to squirm and heat at the attention.

“Well, they cut it off and sew it back on- things don’t always come back the same as they were.” He’s still whining like they’re not entirely numb though, a rasping in his throat and pushing at his arm, so Ansem releases.

“So they were quite sensitive before,” Ansem muses. Reaching up with that hand, he pulls the towel up off of Riku’s face, and he can see that blush on his cheeks, though Riku’s eyes are pinned to their feet. “I’m afraid despite your keen disinterest, I enjoy these too much, and will have them.”

He sighs to that, rolling his shoulders in strain, “Unsurprising. You weren’t too interested last night, so I got hopeful.”

Ansem turns back to the things he was setting out on the counter, but Riku becomes distracted turning around looking at his face in the mirror. He leans in close, peering down at his jawline, where short white hairs were coming through on his chin. His facial hair was always thin, but he hadn't shaved before he'd left home last. Scoffing, he runs a finger over them, “I don’t like this much, either.”

“No? That is a common secondary sex characteristic."

“Well, it’s not like men don’t have nipples, either. I don’t know, beards always itch.”

“They do. You’ll notice I have none.”

So, Riku does glance over to him. Sure enough, he’s incredibly well shaven. Peering down as well, Riku spots nothing on the curve down his chest where his shirt has been left somewhat unbuttoned, either. “I’m not going to assume that you’re going to always hold me to the same standard as yourself, but I hope this means I get to shave.” Ansem breaks eye contact to look down at the pile of things on the counter, and Riku’s gaze follows. “Oh- that’s… convenient.” It’s a straight razor, soap and shaving cream. To more of Riku’s distaste, there’s a waxing kit already set on a warmer. “Aw man,” he can’t help but let out a pained laugh, eyes squinting shut. He'd always _thought_ about waxing, but now that it's here, he is afraid.

“I enjoy a well groomed animal,” Ansem rumbles, looking over Riku’s naked form. He is nowhere inundated with body hair, but he does have the usual spots of white under his armpits, above his crotch, up his belly button, down his legs. Some little strays in the center of his chest. “Or, I would like to see you both ways. I do not hate how you are now, but.” Riku nods, again itching as his neck. Ansem looks to the wet bandages, and the red skin beneath. “You have skin sensitivities," he ever so momentarily changes the subject.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind.” Well, mostly. He’s nervously scratching at it, now, but Ansem turns him around to face the mirror and gently moves his hand away to pick off the bandages. Since they’re soaked, they peel away easily, leaving the wounds beneath exposed. Wait- wounds beneath? Riku looks at himself in the mirror but other than some discolouration in the shape of a bite mark, not much else remains. 

Ansem watches as Riku looks over the lack of perforation, but eventually speaks to explain while popping off the lid of a nearby bottle and casually slathering it over the skin of Riku's neck. It is near immediately soothing, and Riku can’t help but half-lid his eyes in comfort while Ansem speaks, “My blood quickens your rate of healing. I feel like you might find your backside hurts less than you would expect, also.” It does. Though Riku had never had a beating quite that badly, there was a reason he was able to kneel down on it some hour ago choking back dick while the morning had him in tears just to lean, not to mention his foot now fully holding his weight.

Riku tries not to shiver at the cold lotion being casually spread with an equally cold hand. It helps and does not help that it tickles pleasantly, as well. “That’s handy. It’s a shame I’ve been told it’s why you’re able to control me.”

He nods, taking a step behind him to run a hand down his back, casually spreading out his ass with index and thumb to peer at it. Riku is getting more than used to Ansem being incredibly preoccupied looking at his asshole. Replying, “I wish she hadn’t, but also, I am not truly concerned you know this. If I deign to feed you more, you will find yourself less than able to resist.”

“I guess, if you just pour it down my throat again.”

“No, you will eagerly lap it as it’s given, I assure you.”

“I guess I’ll see,” he scoffs. “And I guess- I already promised myself to you, so why resist otherwise.” Riku is outwardly lying, he has every intention not to drink anymore blood, but it doesn’t matter to Ansem either way.

“Would you like to get the more painful spot out of the way?” He teases a finger down the crux of his ass, and the sparse matting of pale hair between. 

“No, because then I won’t sit still for the rest,” Riku answers honestly. “And I don’t need you accidentally cutting me with the razor and getting distracted.”

Scoffing, “I am not an eager parasite set to lap up drops you accidentally offer.” He moves back around to his razor, and the shaving cream, and Riku turns to face him without prompting. 

“Tell that to my leg.”

“I had made that bite myself, that is a different story.”

“Aahh,” Riku hums, leaning back on the counter with one eye open and watching Ansem for what he’ll want to shave first. He hadn’t exactly expected the answer when Ansem reaches and pulls up at arm to expose armpit. “I shaved my armpits when I was younger, but it's been a while.” The foaming soap is cold to his water warmed skin, so Riku shivers, but keeps steady with his arm raised once Ansem brings what appears to be exceptionally sharp metal to his skin. It also tickles when it catches the thicker hairs there, but any moment he accidentally squirms, Ansem compensates easily. It's a weird, _vulnerable_ feeling as each stroke leaves him with a little less 'protection', not to mention the helplessness of trusting someone not to cut you.

“It’s no matter, it is incomparable to others I have dealt with.”

“Yeah?” Since Ansem himself is trimmed, and he is currently shaving his ‘new pet’, Riku can’t see him much interested in a hairier man, woman or otherwise. “Do you have a body type?”

“I have a preference in my own searches, but whatever Mali brings back hunting I will consume in any way I want to. It’s been quite different than you before, but you are what _I_ am looking for.”

“She accidentally picked very well, I guess,” Riku mumbles, swallowing rough as each drag of slicked, sharp metal moves past his skin. Ansem does, in fact, appear to be no stranger to shaving, hardly having to return for second swings and not nicking his skin even once. “God, I should not want to ask, but just how many people…?”

“I will not sate your mental masochism, you do not actually want to know. Understand, also, how long I have been alive.”

“Yeah, vampire, so I can assume you’ve been wandering around in dark alleys for a while.” Riku is letting himself believe the lie for fun. 

“At the beginning of the internet, there was an incredible boom in poor, sad things like yourself trusting strangers. I had quite the hay day then- but it’s all a lot more trackable now.”

“I really don’t see you with a grindr account.”

Ansem exhales a laugh, wiping down his handiwork before casually moving to the next arm. “Not often, but I sometimes do peruse the market of cute faces, and once or twice taken the risk of having them for myself.”

“How do you get away with dragging so many people here?”

“By not always doing as such, but by also lining the correct pockets, making the correct 'friendships'. My kind, we are all like this, and want to continue to do so. As much as media tends to show us pitted against each other, it is rarely as such." Abruptly, he looks up at Riku with that strangely feral expression, though his hands continue working. The blade is awfully close to his neck when he slides it down the hairs of his chest. “Riku, your curiosity is astounding. You still do not believe I am as I say, but you ask and ask anyways.”

“... A lot of it is because this would be weirder if we just did this without speaking.”

“But you are not crying. No whining, no squirming. I asked to groom you like a dog and you said, ‘well alright’.”

“Getting shaved is literally the least effectual thing that has occurred to me in the last few days.”

“They still complain, every time.”

“Once you start waxing off my junk, I’m going to complain.” Riku’s expression stiffens at the thought, especially since he was just getting over the bruises from the night before.

“I do hope so. It’s interesting that you sit here and let me have my way with you, but there’s no fun without a little fuss. Though, I do have more of you I would like to take before we’re done.” As Riku continues to stand there, his armpits now sheered clean, Ansem crouches down before him and sets to shaving off his belly, and the front of his crotch. It’s definitely cold and ticklish down there, and Riku squirms a bit when it trails over the bruising on the front of his cunt. Ansem merely grips around his thigh and presses him uncomfortably back into the sink counter to keep him sturdy. As he continues downwards, Ansem reaches below his knee and raises it, forcing him to spread out in front of his face to reach some of the fiddly bits that still aren’t quite contained enough to need to be waxed- or maybe just because Ansem wants to loo. Riku notices, like he keeps his own pubic hair, Ansem’s only given the front a trim, leaving a small patch nestled above the start of his slit.

Despite the fact they’ve already fucked and otherwise, Riku’s skin flushes embarrassed. It makes it worse when, momentarily distracted by the tiniest drip of fluid, Ansem reaches to the cusp of his still wounded hole and trails his shaving foam slicked fingers around its entrance. Instinctively, Riku tries to close up his legs, but Ansem is already pressing his fingers in. Pitifully, Riku warbles, “Tha-, ahh, ahh, that’s still s-, sore.” But Ansem is already delicately fingering him, and the fluid is building.

“Your body is pitifully enthralled with pain. I cannot help but abuse that. You’ll hate the next part less if you’re a bit aroused for it, also.” Well, and Ansem really does just enjoy torturing him. He works up two fingers into where it’s nice and beaten inside, rubbing circles over an inflamed pad of nerves that Riku chokes back a moan to each gentle prodding of. Ansem’s surprised when a hand finds itself gripped to his head, tangling into his slicked back hair, but Riku’s not pulling, just grounding himself. When he looks up, Riku’s eyes are squinted shut in discomfort. With a wet sound, he pulls his fingers free, a healthy trail of slick trailing after him. “I’ll fuck you proper when we’re done,” which Ansem speaks in a tone like that’s a treat, but Riku sighs exasperatedly.

“I just told you it’s still sore,” he hisses, setting his leg back down as Ansem releases it. “If you jam your cock in there again, you’re just going to rip it.”

“You like that,” Ansem teases, standing back up again and grabbing Riku’s arm to turn him around. With a palm pressing into his back, Ansem encourages him to lean forward onto the counter, exposing his asshole properly. The wax has been warming in a heating element while he’d worked elsewhere, Ansem giving it a good mixing before spreading it out on a stick, testing out the temperature on his thumb. Riku still flinches when the overt warmth hits the barest edges of the welted skin of his ass, barely holding still while it cools. “Hold your breath,” he gives the gentle command, and Riku strains to do so in time with the sharp rip of hair that follows. Yes, it’s incredibly uncomfortable. His leg hikes up behind him, involuntarily kicking into Ansem’s thigh with his still mildly injured foot. 

“Fff-, fuck, fuck,” he warbles, accidentally looking forwards to his own heat flushed face in the mirror before rushing to set it down on the counter rather than look at himself.

“A few more to go,” Ansem hums, preparing the next slathering of wax before Riku can get any ideas to squirm away. Each rip has Riku reeling, especially as it moves further and further down, until the last strip that lays the hole of his cunt bare. Or, mostly bare. The mistake of fingering him first means there were a few spots too slicked up to catch, and to Riku’s utmost distaste, Ansem simply reaches in and plucks them out effortlessly with his fingers. “Ah, beautiful,” he purrs, gripping against his ass and spreading it to fully consume his handiwork. Smooth skin, albeit around swathes of healing bruises. The bruises really only made it better, honestly.

“W-, well, glad you’re, ah.. hhh, happy,” Riku wheezes between pained breaths, letting the cool counter be his only salivation. 

“Not quite happy yet,” he hums, standing again. He takes a moment to clean up the shaving supplies while Riku gets a hold of himself- but surprises when he leans up and starts to shuffle away. Ansem looks over his shoulder to see where he’s heading, but it’s not the door, so he just lets that happen, he supposes. With a dull thud, Ansem hears him sit down on the toilet, whining. Ansem speaks to him over his shoulder while he works, “Yes, do that first.”

“What, you don’t want me pissing on you again?”

“I don’t care either way, but I do not need you getting an infection letting it get everywhere.”

Riku squints to that, staring at the back of Ansem’s head while he forces out a pee. He can’t see what he’s doing over there, but he does spot a bottle of antiseptic, which is foreboding. Apparently, he takes too long, because Ansem is turning around to loom above him with a disturbingly eager expression. 

“You can sit there for this if you’d like, at least for now,” and he reaches down to snag Riku by the collar clip, tugging him up until he’s sat up straight. Riku tries to look down at what’s happening, but his neck is being craned upwards. Intention becomes known, however, when he pinches that nipple again.

“H-, hey, _wait_ ,” Riku manages to warble, but it’s too late, and something clamps down around it. Riku hisses uncomfortably, but like he’d said, Ansem doesn’t seem to think it hurts as much as it usually does, his nipples at least somewhat numbed to sensation or Riku continuing to be very resilient to pain. He releases Riku’s neck only for the sake that this is easier to do with both hands, crouching down again to make sure the position of it is how he wants it, working around where Riku desperately attempts to squirm away. Every move he makes is easily deflected, though, and after a few seconds of struggle, Riku relaxes. The moment he has a chance, Ansem pulls the clamp flush to where he wants it and threads the needle through, piercing the inflamed nub of his nipple. Riku’s breath chokes out his throat, a hand wringing around Ansem’s wrist to no avail while he pushes a thin metal piercing through. It’s a simple looking ring, resting gently down with a bead of blood, and before Riku can think to itch at it, Ansem’s mouth is suckling gently around the intrusion. His body twitches from pain and a tingling between his thighs as Ansem gently laps his tongue over his new decoration, “I-, I thought you d-didn’t, scrounge for b-, blood.”

Ansem laughs lowly to that, the resonation of his voice reverberating through Riku’s now sensitive nipple. “This is for your benefit, not mine- though I do enjoy the way you squirm.” Leaning back again, he unthreads the clip and wrestles Riku’s weakly defense until it’s clamped around the opposite nipple. Much like the first, he pierces and threads a matching ring through it, and Riku’s gifted with two new little hooks to tug. They honestly hurt less than the waxing did, so Riku’s distaste is mostly to the thought of being dolled up. Ansem licks up the second one the same as the first, but this time a hand worms its way between Riku’s legs. Before he can think to squeeze his thighs shut, those two fingers worm their way in, moving in time with the sucking on his chest. Riku’s hands push to Ansem’s shoulders, but as he always is, he is immovable. A strong forearm wraps around his back, easing him backwards to further expose his cunt without letting him topple off the back of the toilet. Soon, Riku’s warbles of distaste are replaced with that strained, muted moaning, and when Ansem feels his clit stiffen up in his palm, he slowly removes himself, leaving Riku heaving on the toilet. 

“Why are you like this,” he whines, momentarily trying to cross his legs, but Ansem deflects the motion with a palm. In fact, he pushes Riku’s legs further apart, spreading apart his wet, hairless cunt to the room. Riku makes the critical error that is closing his eyes and letting his head loll backwards, because the moment Ansem gets the chance again, a slightly bigger clamp is snapped onto the skin above his clit. That’s _incredibly_ painful, and Riku tries to flinch backwards, but Ansem has him by the collar again, wrenching him forwards. “Wuh- wait, wait wait _wait_ -” but his begging is falling on deaf ears. His collar is released only for Ansem to roughly insert himself up Riku’s cunt, curling his fingers in painfully until Riku’s forced to curve up his hips and sit up properly. Ansem’s thumb rubs up at his clit again, bouncing the clip attached to it around roughly, seeing if he likes the way that will look, but the smallest frown crosses his lips. Riku’s breath is caught gratefully when the clip is pulled off, but should really know better by now. The next time it’s clamped around his skin, it’s _around_ his clit, placing the piercing hole pinched underneath it. Riku wails to that, but there’s no hope of escape. Again, Ansem moves around the folds of his sex to see the way the clip bounces around the hood of his clit, and _that_ , that is what he wants, a good little handle at the top of his cunt. He stands again to get a bigger piercing, one that will fit around even as his clit is erect. It will be easier to do without having to kneel down, too, so Ansem reaches below Riku’s armpits and hefts him up without effort. Riku’s squirming immediately halts in the utmost confusion to being picked up like an unruly toddler, but once he’s placed back down on the sink counter, he’s back to squirming backwards until his sweaty back hits the mirror.

With his fatter piercing in tow, Ansem simply deflects Riku’s lackluster leg flailing defence and inserts fingers to grab him by the cunt hole again. He props up one of Riku’s legs on his shoulder to keep it out of the way, and with great precision, pulls up the clip and perforates it with a fresh needle. Riku’s already cracked his throat once with screaming, so the next cry comes out rasping, tears immediately rolling down his face. This is why he wanted him to pee first. It takes Ansem half a second as best, but it’s a lingering unpleasantness after Riku’s release and he feels the heavy tug of metal wrapped around his clit. It pulses in confusion, arousal and pain, the cool metal soothing as equally as it presses around his abused flesh. “There, some new pretty little handles,” implying Ansem does plan to tug him by these at some point soon. 

“You are a mother fucker,” Riku hisses, staring down at his legs. Despite everything, a wet spot is forming on the counter beneath his ass, little trails of thick slick sticking with a wet noise to each movement. 

“Many things I have fucked, but ‘mother’ is not one of them,” Ansem replies, humoured. He gives Riku the smallest moment to recover, but as he is smart enough not to close his eyes this time, he does see when Ansem leans down towards his crotch. Quite done with the struggle, now, since he’s already been pierced, Riku lets his legs be spread, Ansem’s tongue dipping around his poor clit as he had with his nipples. It still hurts, for sure, but it’s significantly better and soothing as Ansem suckles up beneath the newly perforated skin beneath. He still pulls back before Riku manages to cum, but he’s getting used to it, only sighing dejectedly rather than fully whining. “You become so willing so quickly.”

“Well, why resist something that feels better than the previous thing did,” Riku retorts, gently closing his thighs, but Ansem’s palm pushes them spread again. He reaches over to his supplies for his antiseptic, dousing a small cloth before taking to dabbing it over each new hole in sequence. Riku expects it to sting, but it’s weirdly numb, cold at best, so he quietly lets this happen with a nearly curious look to his face.

“My saliva is vaguely anesthetizing when it sinks past skin level. Pleasure still tends to burn though, but pain is chased away.”

“Oh, so I really should thank you for sucking on them after poking them full of holes,” Riku sneers.

“You could thank me, but it is not necessary.” Now that he’s all clean and pretty, Ansem takes another very good look over him, his wet hole red and aggravated, his clit equally so. It clenches as Riku readjusts to the feeling of it, tensing muscles pulling his clit up against the metal encircling it. Taking a step forward, Ansem looms over him again, snagging his collar with a finger and tugging it idly. “I like to have many places to grab.”

“If you tug too hard, you’ll rip my nipples off, and they were very expensive,” Riku rasps, tilting his head away from where Ansem has him tethered at the neck.

“Make sure to keep up with me, and you won’t have to worry,” Ansem purrs, leaning down to speak into his ear. Again, Ansem’s breath is hardly warm, but the humidity still tickles. “I will not rip off something I have worked so hard to make pretty for me. If something happens to them, I am more than qualified to fix them, I assure you.”

“Well, maybe I just think it’ll just suck.”

“Anyone who would do me the disservice of ruining my hard work will face consequences.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you. If I come back tomorrow night and see you’ve rid yourself of your gifts, I will simply insert them again, but less kindly next time.”

“Noted,” Riku nods his head, swallowing roughly. He had a crossing thought about that, but isn’t surprised to hear Ansem specify that it better not happen. “Got anywhere else you have the urge to poke?”

“Not at the moment. Maybe your tongue one day,” Ansem muses, leaning backwards again. “I hope you’ll find once the aching has stopped, they’re more fun than you realize.”

“How do you know, you don’t have any.’

“Alas,” Ansem sighs, looking wistful for a moment as he leans back to standing. “I cannot pierce my skin, as it will heal and reject anything faster than I can keep it. Trust me- I would be much akin to you if it was possible. I enjoy _decoration_ , and this is more permanent than anything else beyond marking your skin with ink.” He releases the grip on his collar, rubbing a hand down Riku’s chest. “Which I may do one day, but since I cannot quite do that myself, it will have to wait.”

“Do I get to help?”

“Designing something? Sure, if you’d like.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” Riku shrugs, sniffling heavily against the drying tears at the back of his throat. His cunt is still aching pathetically, and Ansem looks down to see the straining. 

“Will you scream if I fuck you here?” He speaks so very plainly for the subject matter that keeps coming out of his mouth.

“Probably, but is that ever a problem for you?”

“It gets quite loud, echoing in the bathroom, so I don’t prefer the unwilling or unfitting here.” Ansem has still taken a step forward until he’s pressed to the edge of the counter and reaches to grab Riku’s hips, pulling him until his wet slit is flush with his clothed bulge.

Riku swallows roughly at the feeling, eyes drifting down to where they touch now. “I felt a lot better yesterday though.” Since Ansem has drugged him, y’know, several times.

And he sighs to that, dejectedly, eyes lidding softly. “Men always say they want to be well endowed, but do not consider the consequences of such.”

“I mean, I’ll get there eventually,” Riku warbles, even rutting his hips into Ansem’s contained but eager self.

Ansem slowly stares down at his moving hips, that clit and new metal catching against the fabric of his pants, the spreading wet spot to match the cum stains he'd made earlier. “Do or do you not care to fuck?”

“I don’t know, can you stand to get half-way in and jack off the rest when it won’t all fit without making me scream?” 

Ansem makes the most curious expression to that idea. “I am unsure, I’ve never tried.”

“See, that’s how normal people work their way up to getting something to fit. They don’t just rip it and wait for it to heal. You technically haven’t even waited for it to heal.”

“My justification is the more it’s stretched while injured, the wider it heals.” Not entirely _not_ how that works, but Ansem has also never needed to consider what the holes would end up like in the long run.

“You go at it a bit too hard, man,” Riku mumbles, laying his head back until it thunks against the mirror behind him. He tries not to act forlorn when Ansem goes to unzip his pants. 

Since he’s already hard, it bounces out and whacks against the front of Riku’s sex, clonking against the sore skin and metal. He flinches, but they both see his clit clench eagerly when Riku stares down at his cock. It hides the entirety of Riku’s sex beneath it, draping itself up and over until it goes past where his pubes lay nearly trimmed. Riku rasps to himself, “I have no idea how you got that inside me.”

“With blood, drugs and effort.” Leaning back his hips, he pulls back on his cock until he can run the head of it against slickening folds, the other hand pushing up on the back of Riku’s knee. Sure enough, his head aligns blunt with Riku’s entrance, pressing in the barest of his tip, but Riku is involuntarily clenching. “You are not relaxed.”

“S-, sorry, I’m, thinking too hard about it,” he warbles, trying to relax, but it altogether still way too sore.

“I know you haven’t eaten well, but have you at least drank much water today?”

A strange question, but Riku answers honestly. “Yeah, I kinda did. I drank some in the shower, too.” Which is why he had to pee. 

Ansem moves forward to rut against him again, prying his thighs apart with the sheer width of his hips. It feels great when rubs up against his sex, so despite the obvious sense of danger, Riku lets his eyes lid, sighing as his head drifts backwards.

And then Ansem sinks teeth into that soft spot at the base of his neck.

Since he isn’t at all high this time, Riku _yelps_ , but it’s cut off into a hoarse, choking rasping as he involuntarily flails out his arms, uselessly clambouring to push against Ansem’s immovable weight. He feels the power behind his jaw, the sharp canines sinking into his flesh, the immediate warmth draining down his skin before Ansem sets to lapping him up eagerly. The shock is more overwhelming than the pain, Riku’s blood pressure dropping sharply, but with a few more strokes of his cock against his sex, it all suddenly dips into raw, overstimulating pleasure. He remembers this feeling vaguely from last night as well, but since his head is clear now, Riku can’t help but cry and moan out pitifully from the strain. The next moment he exhales a shaky breath, that blunt tip at his entrance pushes and pushes, wet and hot, before painfully breaking into his cunt.

Ansem still cannot get as deep as he had last night- not enough lubrication, Riku’s tight hole squeezes all his natural fluids off Ansem's shaft instead of spreading nicely. But, to Riku’s suggestion, he works his way in and out as much as he can while grinding his teeth into the bloody mess he’s making out of the base of Riku’s neck. It might not be as nice on his cock, but Ansem can hardly remember the last time he had a treat whose blood was not filled to the brim with chemicals. Riku seems to somehow be enjoying himself, too, and Ansem rumbles delightfully when his prey wraps desperate arms around his back, trying to sink his nails into his skin. Despite everything, Riku’s cunt clenches around him when he’s wracked painfully by climax, momentarily staying Ansem’s thrusting. He has to stop bleeding him before he can manage to cum, but he’s already well enough in that he finishes half-hilted after dragging Riku’s near lifeless, blood leaking body prone on the counter, gripping hard around his thighs and rutting his cock just that half inch further while he can. The slow stretching, like he’s said, though there’s still a bit of blood with the cum he spies leaking in the wake of his removal. Rutting his half-hard cock against a messy slit, Ansem rubs a thumb over the piercing there, tugging it idly when it makes Riku’s throat creak.

Riku’s breathing becomes a lot more laboured that Ansem would prefer, however, his teal gaze growing distant and muddy, so he coddles up his cold body in a towel to tote him to bed. It’s suddenly all very cold, so Riku shivers pitifully against his body, but to Ansem’s surprise, he sits up just a touch and looks around while they walk down the hallway. The wound has already clotted over, but once he’s laid down in bed, Ansem still licks up every little drip, even the ones between his legs. 

Though Riku has not been conventionally drugged tonight, his brain doesn’t know the difference, the world around him edged in hazy black. Like the night before, however, Ansem lays down beside him, tucking him under the blankets and petting over his head. It makes it much easier to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sfw
> 
> tw; trauma reponse

If Mali was disappointed in Ansem yesterday, she is absolutely berating him the next when Riku does not arise in the morning. Namine pokes her head in, peeling away the blanket to see Riku lying there, sweaty and unconscious, the saline IV in his arm not doing much for the immediate anemia. It takes her a little while of sitting him up and warming him with her own body heat, but eventually he rises enough to blearily drink some juice. With her assistance, he gets up a few times to pace the hallway and stretch his legs during the day, but otherwise stays in bed and sleeps. When night falls, Ansem peeks in his head curiously, but ultimately decides to leave his poor pet be. Since he is incredibly well fed now, for both his blood and sex lust, it’s no matter to let a few days pass. Though Riku has been with them a short while, Ansem still catches himself a little sad to see his pet so sickly. 

Somehow, it feels worse when Riku spends the night alone, though, even if it might be better for his health. On the third evening Ansem only visits, Riku carefully creeps down the stairs and cautiously joins him on the couch, next to the fire. Mali has since gone to bed, but the embers are still glowing.

“You still seem unwell.” Ansem speaks quietly, almost timidly.

Riku sniffles, having since caught some kind of cold after losing all his blood. He probably contracted it when he was walking outside a few days ago, but was succumbing to it now. “Yeah, but I slept all day," he rasps, leaning into the couch.

“I am still going to leave you alone.”

“That’s fine,” Riku mumbles, “unless just being down here is tempting.”

“Not in a way I cannot handle." There's still a part of Ansem that is wildly confused about how Riku seems at all interested in being in proximity to him, so he tries to narrow down the reasoning. "Are you bored?"

It’s true. He’s incredibly bored. He has no idea where his backpack had ended up after Mali had dumped it in her trunk, his phone and handheld console with it. He hasn’t had the effort to explore more of the house, and from the small choices of rooms he has seen, he hasn’t found a TV to watch. So, Riku nods, pretending he didn’t come down here because he was lonely more than anything. “I’m used to watching a lot more TV than this. Or like, youtube, on my laptop.”

“Well, I cannot allow you the internet,” Ansem hums, shifting his weight to stand, “But I do have a room to watch movies.”

Riku stares up at him nervously as he moves, down to his offered hand before taking it to stand on unsteady legs. “Knowing you watch movies kinda breaks the facade.”

“The facade of an uptight vampire constrained by the rules of the past?” He walks a step or two ahead of him, but looks over his shoulder while he speaks. A hand gestures to his outfit- it’s a very neatly pressed black button-up shirt to match his slacks, but it’s not what Riku would consider incredibly old fashioned. High fashion, but not baroque. 

“Looking at you, I know better, but hearing you talk sometimes,” Riku replies quietly, laughing under his breath. It’s down the hallway but before the kitchen, passing a door on the left until they end up at a heavy wooden one to their right. The heavy door makes sense once Ansem opens it; it’s completely dark inside, no windows even behind heavy curtains. He flicks on a light at the entrance, but like all rooms in this house, Riku is coming to realize, the lighting is incredibly sparse. From what he can barely see, there’s an extra long leather couch near the furthest 'wall', though Riku realizes it’s rather a large projector screen. Behind the couch is three separate but equally elegant reclining chairs. “Kinda weird you’ve got a whole personal theater with multiple seats when you don’t live with a lot of people.” Riku questions while they wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“Sometimes I have more than one toy at a time,” Ansem hums, approaching the chairs at the back, “but also, sometimes I have friends. Sometimes Mali or Namine would like to watch with me- but would never share a seat.”

Riku nods, supposing that makes sense. When Ansem gestures to the biggest, centered chair, Riku takes the hint and walks over to plop himself down into it. He looks way too comfortable instantly, and it’s worse when there’s suddenly a blanket being thrown over his body, a remote stuffed into his palm. “Well, this beats sitting in bed all day," Riku mumbles, muffled by fabric and his own limbs curling beneath him.

“Feel free to come here at your leisure, though during the day you may have to share with the other two of this house.”

“Not you?”

Ansem exhales a laugh, “Not during the day- and maybe another night. And I know you want attention, pet,” he purrs, running fingers delicately through his hair, “But I have some things to attend to. Stay here or in bed, please.” And since he asked so nicely, Riku can’t help but agree. At least apparently Ansem could tell when he was feeling weird and needy.

Once Ansem leaves, Riku spends some time chilling in the low lighting to see if he’ll just curl up and sleep here, but his eyes never quite manage to stay lidded. So, he fumbles with the remote for a bit, eventually clicking the projector overhead on. He’s assisted by his relative technological literacy, but taken down by his foggy, low blood brain, struggling to get out of the AV setting someone must've been watching a movie on earlier in the day. Eventually, he gets it into an abundance of tv channels. Ansem has more options than Riku has ever seen- his mom was rich but wouldn't pay for even cable. It provides an endless sea of flicking through each one without an idea of what he wants, the volume turned down to a whisper- after all, it’s night time, and he doesn’t want to wake up Namine or Mali. Vaguely, Riku does wonder if there was any way to let the outside world know he was trapped here in the middle of nowhere from the TV, but there’s no browser on this set up at all. Also, if Riku cared, he thinks he would've asked for his phone even once by now, but he doesn’t. He honestly misses his handheld more than the phone, because he could at least play some game for hours and hours. Instead, he’s been mindlessly staring at the little birds dancing and singing across the projector screen. He’s not even sure when he ended up on a nature show, but since he hasn’t flicked away from it yet, he tucks the remote into the side of the chair and curls up his limbs to relax and try to be warm. It makes excellent white noise, apparently, because one moment he’s staring with strained eyes, and the next he’s snoring against the soft leather of the seat.

His mind wanders with dreams since it’s hard to become fully unconscious while sat up. Nothing in particular happens, just feelings; anxiety, like he’s being chased, unable to move his legs out from under him. Unfathomable rage, but each time he slams out a fist, it sticks through the air like he's being tugged back by strings. Something is chiming in his ear. The TV, probably, some cartoon jingle, but it’s more familiar than that..? Maybe a commercial he’s seen a lot? No, definitely more familiar than that... It’s getting louder, too, approaching him, ripping him away from his nightmares until it’s blaring loud in his ears.

Riku wakes up with a hard choking on his breath, looking around in bewilderment as the familiar jingle continues to rattle into his skull. There’s no comprehension of what is happening, though he feels that looming shadow of Ansem behind him, Riku can’t tell what’s happening. A call clicks ‘accept’ with the swipe of a finger.

“Riku?” A voice he hasn’t heard in a few weeks speaks timidly into his ear from beyond his phone. 

Quietly, Riku replies, still not entirely understanding what is happening. It feels still quite like a dream, but he’s definitely looking at the projector and a sea of fish ahead of him. “Hello?”

“Oh my god, Riku,” the voice replies exasperatedly, “Where the fuck are you?”

“Uhmm,” Riku warbles, slowly craning his neck upwards to Ansem looming like a shadow behind the chair. His expression is incredibly _dark_ in the low lighting, his normal barest smile gone from him. Riku reaches up for his cellphone that Ansem has pressed up to his ear. “I’m at… a.. I’m ok,” he settles on replying.

“What do you mean you’re ok- where _are you_ ,” the voice repeats, the worry in his tone bleeding through. “You walked out days ago without a word when I was at work-”

“It’s fine, I paid rent,” Riku tries to interrupt, but the voice shrills back immediately.

“This isn’t about _paying rent_ , Riku, fuck,” he sounds absolutely exasperated, and Riku curls up further under his blanket, pulling his phone from Ansem’s hand.

“I’m fine,” he keeps saying, and then even lies, “I’m at... a friends house.”

“A _friend_ , or some creep you met on the internet.”

A singular teal eye peers up at Ansem’s ominous amber gaze. “... Well, we didn’t meet online,” Riku mumbles weakly.

“Riku, I try to let you have your little dissociative episodes sometimes- but you usually like, shit post on twitter still so I know you’re not dead in an alley somewhere.”

“I know, Sora,” Riku sighs. He really would’ve meant to keep nonchalantly posting on social media, but there wasn’t really an option. “I meant to call sooner, but my phone was dead.” Not technically a lie.

“I’ve been calling for _hours_ ,” which explains why Ansem looks so annoyed, “The moment I tried at 9 and didn’t get immediately kicked to voicemail. By the way- you’ve got no room in your voicemails anymore.”

“Unsurprising,” Riku rasps, shrinking in further at the thought of Sora trying to call him every night since he’d left. He starts the movement to look at his phone screen, but flinches and whacks it back to his ear. “I’m-, I’m fine, alright. Just, I want to have some… quiet time, by myself, ok?”

“Yourself?” That voice, ‘Sora’, replies dryly, “You said you were at some creeps house.”

“It’s a big house, I get left alone a lot.”

“Well screw me for not really trusting you alone, either.”

“See, and that,” Riku barks, “is why I wanted to be alone! I’m tired, ok, just, drop it, for once in your life-”

“Dude, we thought you were _dead_ , and you’re telling me to _drop it_ \- your _mom_ came to my house.”

Riku’s tone absolutely drops to that, the most aggressive Ansem has heard him since they met. “Well, then call the cops, because she’s breaking the law-”

“Come on man- she just wanted to know you weren’t dead too- and then I knew it was serio-”

“Good bye, Sora,” Riku absolutely rumbles, pulling his phone to his face and hanging up. 

There’s a few moments of near silence beyond the TV whispering before Ansem speaks, though all his initial irritation has been dimmed. “Untethered,” he hums, setting his hands down on the back of the chair to lean forwards and look Riku over where he’s still curled up. “You implied no one would notice your disappearance.”

“I didn’t _say_ that,” Riku sighs, burying his face in his forearms. “I meant it didn’t matter if they missed me.”

“No? Your friend seemed very concerned.”

“But he doesn’t… he never learned how to _respect_ me.”

Ansem doesn’t entirely understand, his gaze drifting while he mentally goes over the conversation they had just had. “So, even though his disrespect came from the desire to know you are alive, you would still begrudge it?”

“I meant- I ask to be alone, and he takes it as a _challenge_ , to get in my face about it. He’s just… a cheery dude. Sometimes it works, sometimes it makes me want to strangle him. Besides- for your information, no, I don’t want to see him again,” Riku mumbles heavy into his arms, nearly so hoarsely Ansem hardly parses the words.

“Ah, then I do understand. Also, it is not in my best interest to allow you two to visit, so I will not dissuade you,” he shrugs, leaning back up. But, he doesn’t leave immediately. 

Riku seems to get the hint, an arm slowly outstretching to offer his phone back- when the damn thing starts to vibrate and ring again. Unlike the previous call that played a happy little chime when Ansem had first aggravatedly brought the device in, the ringer that plays now is an ominous piano tune. Ansem's heard this one more than 'Sora's', over and over and over again since he’d deigned to plug Riku’s phone in earlier this evening. Grip suddenly turned steadfast, Riku’s arm sharply recoils from when he'd been offering it back, and swipes a sweaty palm across ‘rejected’. He holds it close to his chest, and waits, his eyes pinned forwards at nothing, even as Ansem slowly comes around the side of the chair. Again, the piano starts, and Riku rejects the call. Once more, a single note dings with a half second vibration, rejected. On the fourth try, Ansem is taken physically aback when Riku sharply squirms out of his blanket, out of his chair, standing so quickly he nearly topples over, and launches his phone at high velocity into the opposite wall. It scuffs the hell out of the paint, but it seems the walls are more than drywall, at least. Unfortunately, the outburst only serves to crack the screen, and from the across the room it continues to play its foreboding little ringtone. 

While Riku heaves in his rage, Ansem calmly makes his way across the room, retrieving the phone. As if he’s scared of it, Riku topples back into his chair, curling up his legs, holding his arms defensively over his head. Ansem delicately wrenches a hand away enough so Riku can see the cracked screen, and the contact name, ‘bitch time’, before Ansem flicks his thumb over rejected. “Unlock your phone for me, I could not do this otherwise.” So, shakily, Riku does swipe across his code, giving Ansem the time to commit that to memory. While making sure Riku is still watching, Ansem quickly goes through a few prompts into his contact list until he reaches a screen that says ‘reject all calls from his number’, before swiping the option on. “This will not stop her from imploding your voicemails, but it sounds like she already had.”

“She has for months,” Riku rasps past his heavy beating heart, one arm still held defensively over his head. “I didn’t want my phone back.”

“Duly noted,” Ansem hums. “I was going to clear your contact list and hoped you did not remember your friends phone numbers, expecting I understood what you'd meant by untethered and that no one would call you.” A risky idea, but something to keep his pet more occupied. 

“Well, now you know, I don’t want to tell them where I am anyways.” Slowly, Ansem lingers around his chair, waiting for Riku to relax. Waiting for his arms to lower back into his lap, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He stares off towards the projector, expression flat. “I coulda called 911 or something.”

“The police do not come to my house,” Ansem hums. “But once or twice, family and friends have tried. They meet the same fate as my toys.”

“That’s the best warning you could give, even if I knew what Sora’s number was... I think I could guess the last four digits, maybe.” He looks down at his phone still offered in Ansem’s hand, but he really did bust the hell out of the screen. He raises a shaky arm, pushing it away, “Well, apparently I ruined my chances anyways.”

Ansem shrugs, taking it back and slipping it into his pocket. “You said you did not want it anyways, so it is no loss.”

When Riku awakens again, it is morning, and he’s still curled up on the TV seat. He would’ve slept longer, but, “Oh, here you are!” Namine’s voice is more than familiar at this point, and a long band of sunlight streaks the blackened room across his lap. With a stiff stretch of his legs, Riku forces himself awake with the barest complaint in his throat.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve stayed upstairs.”

“It’s fine, I kept meaning to show you in here while it was daytime, but you were just so sleepy.” Lingering beside him as he slowly rises, she coaxes his mood to awaken with eggs on a piece of toast. 

“I could have asked. I just had a preconceived idea that it would be weird for a ‘vampire’ to watch TV.”

“Well, that’s silly- but also, what about me!”

“I still don’t know what you are,” he exhales a laugh, taking the plate of offered food before meandering them both out of the room. Going from the dark ass theater to the brightly lit hallway in incredibly jarring, however, and he stands there and squints for a moment.

“Ohp-” she stops as well, looking up at him discerningly. “You didn’t drink any more of his blood, right?”

“Uhh… No? At least none that I know of,” and in a few seconds of blinking, he’s mostly adjusted to the sunlight. It's just barely still pink, so it must still be early morning, which also explains Riku's sleepy squinting.

“Oh- yeah I guess it was pretty dark in there. Just checking~” Her tone is that soft singsong it tends to be, but just that touch worried.

Riku tilts his head down at he while they walk wherever, him tending to follow after her like a lost dog. “What’s the worry for, huh? Don’t trust me?”

“It’s not so much about trust! I just… I don’t know, hm.” Eyebrows knit, she heads into the kitchen to poke at the rest of the food she was cooking. She always seems to make more than Riku can ever eat, the fridge continually full of leftover meals but never anything rotten; once or twice he'd come in to snack in the middle of the night. He has seen both her and Mali eat now, though their occasional nibbling did not explain the abundance. Maybe she just likes cooking. Riku’s almost starting to get worried about the weight he’s going to start gaining if he keeps eating and sleeping all day, but his body doesn't seem to notice.

“I’m doing my best, don’t worry. But I mostly wonder why you care so much that I keep myself un-bloodened.” He's got a stool he likes to sit on, now, tugging it out with a foot from underneath the center island. It's a bit of a struggle to balance up on it with his hand occupied by plate and his legs sore from sleeping curled up in a chair.

“Uhm…” She hums sheepishly, moving to turn over some half cooked pancakes. Very quietly, she replies, “You just… don’t really deserve to be here.”

“Ha-” Riku laughs, giving her an incredulous look, “Does anyone?”

“Yeah, actually. Mali makes a habit out of picking up people that won’t be missed- so it tends to be people who are, well… More reprehensible than you!”

To that, Riku’s mood falls. A frown crosses his lips as he nibbles at his toast, "Did you hear me and Ansem last night?”

“Huh? No, I was asleep- was this accidentally related? I promise I wasn’t trying to snoop!” And she does sound very honest.

“No- no, it’s okay,” he exhales a laugh. Opening his mouth to speak again, his words get caught when he doesn’t really want to explain, ‘being missed’. “It doesn’t matter now,” he warbles, “...How come you’re so sure I don’t belong here?”

“Riku, I asked you this the day we met- are you a nice guy? And you said you didn’t know, but I think I do. Maybe you’re not _the_ nicest guy, but you’re nice!” Nice to her, nice to Mali, nice to _Ansem_ for some reason. At least, when it matters; she has had a few moments of light hearted snark and teasing from him, but teasing isn’t really _mean_ , either.

“Nicer than anyone who’s been here?”

“Nicer than anyone who was forced to stay,” she replies so softly, eyes drifting to her feet. 

Slowly, he traipses to where she is at the stove, staring down between his too-long bangs and at the slowly burning pancakes. Namine’s never burnt food before, and he casually reaches down to flip it for her. “Not everything is ‘deserved’. Shit happens to good people all the time. Why are _you_ here, Namine?”

She tenses when he looms above her, looking up barely over her shoulder. “I live here. I lived here before he did.”

“Are you some kind of… house spirit?” Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s never seen Namine leave the house.

“You could say that,” she nods, and then takes back her spatula. Apparently interrupting her cooking ritual is a nono. “Either way, I cannot leave, and even though this is my house- I’m not in a position to overpower him, so.”

“So there you go, " he laughs under his breath. "You are also nice- or nicer than you need to be, but.” Since she lives here and perhaps helps Ansem torture people on occasion, she has admitted before. Riku knows now it is her that made him so dizzy the night he arrived.

“I don’t have it hard like you do.”

“No? Because the other day he told me after you’d stolen that plug, he’d, ah… given it back to you.” Riku can't help but tease, raising an eyebrow down at her.

“O-oh,” she stutters, a blush rising to her face. “Well, I sort of, asked for that.”

“Asked for that explicitly, or ‘asked for it’ like you expected to be punished?”

“Maybe both?”

“Well,” he shrugs, taking a step back when she gets embarrassed, “I still think you should worry less how this is all going for me. He says he’s not going to kill me! Has he ever done that before?”

“Not so truthfully as he’s told it to you, no.”

“Oh, so he has lied about it though,” Riku squints, grimacing.

“Only to torment someone being naughty, and you weren’t being bad when he told you he wasn’t going to kill you, right?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Oh, you’d know if you were being ‘bad’,” she nods to herself, clicking off the stove. 

He sits back down again, sighing and staring off towards the outside. Looks like it’s going to be a hell warm, sunny day today, and he’s feeling remarkably refreshed after last night. “Well, so far so good then. One day I will manage to piss him off, but.”

“Are you trying to on purpose?” She replies humoured, offering him all her pancakes. Well, mostly all, she does take one for himself.

“No, but I know myself too well. I’m gonna start testing the boundaries, just for the ‘fun’ of it.”

“Well… you’ll probably survive! But you’ll hate it the whole time.”

“Then it’s just like a normal day.”

“A normal night,” she teases, since the daytime here is very serene.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; exhibitionism, financial dom(maybe?), general embarrassment

Riku has been making a habit out of going outside during the day- it’s so incredibly beautiful out here, and the patio furniture outside the kitchen is untouched by anyone else. In between laying around in the shade, Riku exercises by tugging weeds out of the short expanse of grass around the house, tending to the flowers in the many planters outside. Sometimes he even runs around with Pete, though he has no hope of keeping up with him when the giant mastiff really starts to bound into the nearby fields, chasing after that raven. Riku never catches up in time to see what they’re chasing, but they always return looking satisfied. He’s worried for a bit there would never be wildlife in the yard, but one morning a doe and her fawn nibble the grass outside the kitchen window, while Pete slept peacefully on the patio steps.

It also feels ‘safer’ in the sunlight, for the part of Riku that still feared Ansem looming, but he’s surprised one evening to hear the door to the patio opening behind him, moments after the sun had fully sunk past the horizon. The sky is still fairly orange, and Ansem squints heavily from even the dull brightness. “Uhhh, you good…?” Riku turns in his chair, even opting to stand up. So much for safety in the sun- but actually, Ansem looks like he’s… struggling, a bit.

Uncharacteristically, Ansem takes a few silent seconds of slow blinking to reply. “I am not quite awake yet.”

“...Vampire activity. Aren’t you gonna… catch fire,” Riku teases, but looks towards where the sun was definitely hidden behind the sea of trees around. 

“Even if the sun was still out, I would not instantly combust. It would sting a bit, though,” and he even sighs, closing his eyes to speak more clearly. “If we plan on arriving at the stores I want too before they close, I must, unfortunately, rise a bit earlier than I would prefer.” Oh, shopping for clothes! At least, Riku hopes shopping for clothes. He also hasn’t had a cheeseburger in the longest time in his life, so maybe he can coax Ansem into stopping somewhere for greasy fast food.

Riku stares for a moment at Ansem squinting in even this low sunlight, however. “Are you… going to be able to drive?”

“Yes, though more cautiously than I might normally,” he rasps, offering Riku to follow him with the gesture of his hand. Dutifully, he does, and as they walk around the house, they go further than Riku had initially but has since seen, to a massive garage to the opposite side of the mansion. There’s three doors in the front, but wide enough it looks like it fits several vehicles behind each one. 

“Well, _I_ could drive,” Riku speaks as they head towards it, startling when one giant bay door creaks and rumbles open. He hadn’t seen Ansem click a remote, but he must’ve at some point.

“I should trust you to drive?”

“I have my license!” A few days ago, Namine had even returned his original clothes, laundered and neatly folded. Ontop, his wallet, with his 15 paper dollars inside. His credit and debit cards, however, were not to be found. “Though I never practiced driving stick a whole lot…”

“I have a few options that are not a manual transmission,” Ansem replies with an air of humor, and even looks back over his shoulder with a teasing expression,”though, if I let you drive, how am I supposed to have you ride my cock while we speed down the highway?”

Riku flushes at the thought of it, still rolling his eyes. “You already said you’d have to be more cautious because you can’t see in the sunlight,” he scoffs, waving an embarrassed hand, “so I definitely don’t think I’ll be touching your dick on the way over. Maybe on the way back,” he quietly adds in at the end.

Laughing lowly to that, Ansem leans down to enter the darkened garage, the forms of two cars taking up the space directly behind the door. As Riku catches up behind him, Ansem palms him the keys, “Do not get us pulled over.”

While Ansem rounds to enter the passenger side, Riku is stopped when he stares down at the hood of the car now in view. A sheening silver sedan, its paint clean but still worn from use. A Mercedes, S-Class, not the exact year he’s familiar with. Riku can see his stiff silhouette staring back in the chrome detailing. The keys still in his hands, he stands there with a flat expression, an empty stare even when Ansem hums a confused tone at him. He’s experienced Riku with that look on his face before, though, and really doesn’t want him tossing the keys at his car, so he’s up in Riku’s space in an instant, snagging his arm and pushing him back.

Having been unaware of what he was doing, Riku flinches, startling in a humoured way while he stumbles back. “What was that for?”

“You looked quite mad at my car, though I know not why for,” Ansem speaks lowly, tilting his head down to peer up at Riku, but his pet's aggressive expression has faded. 

“O-oh, it's nothing, sorry,” he tries to take a step around him, but Ansem blocks him again.

“Let's not drive this one, then,” he speaks, pulling the keys from Riku’s loose grip. Equally, he grabs him by the wrist to lead him further down the line- Riku spots Mali’s fancy Audi, two SUV’s and a truck, plus something incrediboy sporty at the very back. At the end is another sedan that he doesn’t recognize the make of, but something fairly high-fashion, older and maybe a little dusty. Ansem reaches up to a nearby board with keys dangling on it- Riku nearly opens his mouth to remark about how unsafe that is, but remembers where he is, and that no one is going to get into this garage unscathed enough to steal a car. “Please do not crash this one,” Ansem speaks, and Riku swears he almost looks a little nervous- but he still does offer Riku the keys.

“... That’s not making me feel very secure!”

“She runs fine, Namine and I care for her very well, but I’ve had her for… quite some time,” Ansem nods to himself, prying open the passenger door to sit down. Riku follows suite at the drivers side, but once he’s sat down in the immaculate leather seating, hesitates. “Yes?” Ansem questions.

“I have to adjust the seat…” Though Riku is not short, Ansem has half a foot or more of height on him; Riku cannot reach the pedals. 

“Oh, yes, that is fine. Despite her age, they are still electronic, the dials are at your side.”

Reaching down, he fumbles down until he finds a few little knobs, experimentally toying around with them incorrectly before finding the one that pushes him forwards. It doesn’t help the reddening on his cheek as Ansem stares at him flatly, a hint of humour restrained on his lips. The bay door in front of them is opening, however, so when the barest sunlight creeps in, Ansem’s eyes are squinting uncomfortably again; he reaches up to a pocket in the visor to grab some glasses he has to dust off before putting on. Yes, if he had been forced to drive, it would have been incredibly tedious. He hadn’t thought to ask Riku though, so it’s a delight he’d offered. Well, if he doesn’t crash his 30 year old, first and only owner Royce. 

“How often are you driving map-seat, huh,” Riku says as he rolls down the long ass drive way, nervous but not unsteady.

“... Map… seat?”

“You’re the map- I don’t see a GPS in here. You have to tell me where we’re going”

“Oh-” Ansem nods, “I occasionally drive with Mali at the wheel, in her own vehicle, of course, but she needs not my direction, so this might technically be a first.”

“Her car is nice, but it stinks.” Well, and Riku distinctly remembers her claw clacking impatiently on the stick shift he cannot drive.

“Does it?”

“She really, really likes being nearly on fire,” Riku laughs under his breath, giving Ansem a glance as they roll up to where the asphalt of the driveway turns into gravel for a short while. There’s a gate further down nestled in a sea of trees, and it opens on their approach despite Ansem’s hands very much still being folded on his lap.

Ansem gestures left with his hand once they reach the turn off, and Riku takes the hint, speeding forwards on their way. “That she does. I’m curious to know why you think that is.”

“Well, she’s not a vampire, since she doesn’t care about walking around in the sun.” Guess it’s time for 20 questions. It’d be a good way to pass the time, at least- and honestly, Riku hasn’t had a chance to glean any remotely ‘normal’ conversation from Ansem. Being taken down a peg by the waning sunlight gives Ansem the weakness to just sit back and converse for a minute.

“She quite enjoys a warm summer day to sit beneath high noon, indeed.”

“She likes being warm in the sun,” Riku half-repeats, nodding to himself as he thinks. “I cannot think of anything human shaped and ‘mythical’,” he air quotes while still holding onto the wheel, “Is she something I’m even going to know?”

“Oh, most definitely. My only hint is that you may not realize these creatures _can_ be human shaped.”

“Well that makes this much harder.” Riku huffs, nose wrinkling in thought. “That could be anything, then.”

“Anything that enjoys fire and warming themselves in the sun, like a lizard..?”

There’s another hint Ansem has given, Riku notices. “... You cannot tell me to believe she’s a fucking _dragon_.”

“You do not entirely believe I’m a vampire,” Ansem nearly purrs, leaning back in his seat.

“... Really. Really and honestly. How did you get a pact with a _dragon_.”

“I’ve stolen something from her, unfortunately. She is not with me on even terms, though I treat her very kindly regardless. If she ever learns this thing I have, I'd like to keep her pleasant enough not to burn me to death on the spot for imprisoning her with it.”

It’s true, Ansem keeps his distance and lets her do as she will, to a certain degree. Namine had let it slip one morning that after Riku had hit her, if it had been anyone else before him, she would’ve ‘torn his arm off’. But, the looming threat of Ansem, and whatever he has over her. “I guess I can forgive a dragon for having a car that reeks of smoke. At least not cigarette smoke,”

“Blegh,” Ansem sticks out his tongue and makes a noise Riku cannot help but laugh at. The gravel road ends, and he’s gestured to turn left again, so he does so. Riku recognizes this road now- though they’d gone quite a distance south, he was less far away than he thought. No distance Riku thinks he could run without getting caught, though, even once he’s shaken Ansem’s ‘thralling’. So, running away was straight up no longer going to be an answer. They’re about to be in a big, public place though, but Riku can still feel a weird lump in his chest, constricting his stomach when he thinks about escape. “I enjoy you dearly, Riku, my pet, but we are not going to some big, open mall for your to peruse a Hot Topic.”

Riku flinches when he’s immediately caught in his thoughts, but keeps an eye on the road. There’s some traffic now, so he has to pay attention, watching his speed. It's already been implied that a cop would not be on Riku's side if they were pulled over and he started crying for help. “Am I making it that obvious?”

“I can somewhat feel your intentions. But also, your face suddenly grew very grave.”

“Whoops,” Riku replies weakly.

“If you drove us into traffic, surely the ensuing accident would leave you rendered helpless in a hospital,” Ansem teases- and reaches over to grab the wheel.

Riku’s posture stiffens, his grip tightening. In the oncoming lane, a vehicle is, unfortunately, approaching. “You said I wasn’t supposed to break your car.”

"Oh, but _I_ could break my car, I see,” and no amount of gripping can stop Ansem from slowly turning his wheel towards the center line.

“Would you even get hurt?” Riku chokes, peering over at him- but he’s staring towards the coming vehicle.

“No, I would be fine. Inconvenienced, maybe.”

“So you’d just pick up my half-dead corpse and drag me home. I wouldn’t end up at a hospital at all.”

Slowly, Ansem releases the wheel, and Riku eases them back into his lane. “Yes, you are thinking clearly now.”

“Probably not,” he mumbles, inhaling and exhaling sharply before the car ride drifts into silence. Ansem reaches towards his radio and flicks it on, and Riku’s tension fades a bit when they listen to a radio show he’s somewhat familiar with. After over two weeks of imprisonment, he looks around the familiar highway eagerly. He sees the turn off that would take him to the town where he lives- where he used to live, but continues straight towards the city Ansem had specified. Ansem still catches him staring at the sign, though. 

“I have no interest in anything there.” Ansem hums.

“Me neither, now, I guess. Except I guess, all my stuff. Sora will probably... hold onto it for a while...” he mumbles, sniffing up a sad thought. 

“And then?”

“Who knows,” Riku shrugs. “I feel like even if I went back and scooped it all up, it’d just remind me of how shitty I felt when I had it.”

“No nostalgia?”

“I mean, sure, some of it is youthful artefacts,” gesturing with a hand, Riku sighs, “but.”

“Nothing you can’t replace.”

“Nothing I _care_ to replace.” Well, that’s sort of a lie. There’s a couple anime figures he’s going to miss, a whole swathe of clothes he’s definitely going to prefer over anything Ansem’s fancy stores will have. A ship in a bottle Sora got him when he went on vacation to the canadian east coast, for some reason. Something else he hasn’t worn in a long while, but was so expensive it would be a waste just to throw out.

“I’ll think on it,” Ansem replies to Riku’s inkling thoughts of his even small amount of lost things.

“I don’t want you bothering Sora,” he rumbles uncharacteristically.

“I won’t, I assure you.” Though he is a little curious about the defensive nature his pet has to someone he’d told to leave him alone forever but a few days ago.

It’s some 45 minutes away, but as they drive into the city proper, Ansem starts relaying his directions. The sun is entirely down, so they could technically switch seats, but it would be a hassle now, and Ansem is surprised with how well Riku drives despite occasionally very quick directions. However, “Riku, I am going to need you to use your turn signal when we are at stop lights.”

“Ah- shit,” and he flicks it on. But the light is long. And Riku’s posture stiffens as it clicks, and clicks, and- and he’s whacking it back off again, “No one really checks, y’know, we’re in a turn lane-”

“If you get us pulled over, I will be very annoyed.”

“I mean, I’ll take the ticket-”

“You are currently kidnapped. Where will the ticket go.”

“I guess,” Riku mumbles, swallowing when he turns the signal back on, but thankfully the light changes and they drive away.

The next stoplight, however-”Do you come to the city often?”

It’s still clicking, but Riku replies. “Not to this side, it’s kinda expensive down here. Me and Sora tend to shop at the Northhill Mall.”

“Understandable. My tastes are more refined than that, unfortunately.”

“I used to wear nice clothes, when I was young and getting dressed up wasn’t my choice-”

“I will let you pick some of your own outfits.”

“Yeah, I remember,” and the light changes and they continue. 

For the last two turns, Ansem speaks again to distract him from the clicking. “At least I know now you won’t be completely wooed by the price tags.”

“Oh no, I still will. I’ve been buying my own clothes for a while now- dad gives me money every couple of months between part-time jobs, but I dunno. I guess I’d rather spend it on other things.” Junk food. Videogames. Anime figures. 

“I regret to notice now I have no idea of your age.” Leaning forwards in his seat, Ansem looks below the rim of his sunglasses to eye Riku’s body up and down a minute, appraising.

“I’m 18, almost 19 now. I moved in with my dad at 16, in with Sora at 18.”

“Ah, I see. You read me as slightly past 20, at least.”

“I get that a lot,” he exhales a laugh- and Ansem directs him to a parking lot. It’s a strip mall of high-end shops, some chain store names he recognizes and some that are definitely self-owned. When they step out, Ansem takes his keys to lock his car, and heads inside to one of the self-owned clothing stores. It’s a healthy mix of ‘normal’ streetwear, plus a section of more… erotic, attire. Things Riku might’ve worn to a party, when he was younger.

As Ansem had said, he lets Riku have full reign to peruse what he prefers in here. He still sweats at the price tags, attempting to put a few things back, but before he gets far, Ansem is tugging them into his arms. “At least try it on before you tell yourself no,” he hums, relishing at the way his pet squirms in embarrassment. Something else Riku vaguely notices- no one else is in the store. Of course, it’s a weekday, close to closing, so who else is out buying obscenely priced clothing at this hour? Once he has a healthy pile of outfits, some he might not normally pick, Riku sneaks into the changing room to try a few on. Several definitely do not work with his body, draping in all the wrong places despite his initial interest. Things always look so good on the shelf- he’s subconsciously allured by the way they embellish all the curves on his body, but he’s caught in a sense of gender dread once they’re on his own body that has him leaving them in the discard pile.

On the third outfit, however, Riku’s thrown for a loop when Ansem stuffs his way into the small changing room. He's currently trying on a very plain look, a soft-fabriced v-neck and a pair of tight pants, but Ansem hums and haws intently inspecting it, rubbing his hands down Riku’s sides as he awkwardly shifts around him- “What happened to laying low, huh?!” He barks at him under his breath.

However, Ansem is busy worming his way into Riku's half undone fly, past underwear until his index and middle are pulling up on his piercing. “You look very good in this,” Ansem purrs low into his ear, looking at the both of them in the long mirror opposite to the door.

“Sure- I do, I like this one- but is th-, ff, ahh, _is this the time?_ ” Riku struggles as quietly as he can, but Ansem knows too well exactly how to rub him. His fingertips drag long and slow down his clit, casually jacking him off.

“It’s always the time. But, suppose you’re right, we haven’t even bought these yet, I shouldn’t ruin them before I’ve put my money down,” but he hasn’t stopped touching him. In fact, Ansem is pulling up Riku’s shirt now until a pert nipple pokes out beneath, tugging at the piercing there despite Riku’s desperate grip around his prying arms.

“Why are you- _if we get caught-_ ”

“It’s very fortunate this is where I take all my toys to doll them up, though I usually find lewder things to put them in. I could fuck you screaming, I assure you, the woman at the counter will merely lock up the door for the evening and wait out your wailing. In fact, I’d be surprised if she hasn’t already done it, excited for a few hours without customers and a show to listen to.” Ansem rumbles into his ear, gently nibbling against the exposed neck above his collar. “It’s a shame we will not stay as long as I normally might, we do have a schedule to keep.”

That wrings a sensitive flare down his core, radiating around where Ansem teases his nipple, pulsing where it centers at his quickly leaking cunt. “Ff-, fuck, fuck,” Riku warbles, but since there’s no point struggling past Ansem’s intent, he simply grips around the assaulting wrists and waits it out like the counter lady apparently is. It's been a few days since Ansem had last touched him, and the taboo of the situation has Riku panting. Ansem even reaches further with two fingers, teasing at the edge of his hole. His legs shake with strain, but because it will hurry this situation over, Riku chases climax until his hands stretch out to balance himself on the mirror. He makes the mistake of looking at the reflection of his flushed face, panting and drooling, but it's worse when he looks up at Ansem's satisfied expression. “You are a fucker.”

“Evidently not,” he replies with an air of humor, wiping his hand off on the outside of his unbought pants before disappearing out the door to let him try on the rest of his outfits. Guess they are definitely buying these ones now, Riku looks down at the trail of slick Ansem had left from his fingers, or even worse, the spotting in the crotch from where his cunt dripped past his underwear. There is no other interruption, but now Riku has to take into account the way the tighter pants he tries on feel about his pierced little erection. Maybe that was the point. His underwear tries its best, but once or twice more he leaves little wet marks in the crotch, much to his embarrassment. He comes out with four sets of pants and a half dozen shirts, plus a few more Ansem has grabbed looking around himself. Riku is sure he won’t end up liking the way they fit- sheer fabrics, tight around the hips, incredibly erotic, some things that are definitely lingerie. Something to fuck him in, Riku is assured. He struggles not to read the total, but Ansem does not hesitate to pay. Despite the embarrassment flush across his cheeks, the woman at the counter does not bat an eyelash. In fact, she doesn’t recognize that Riku is there at all. Which normally makes a lot of sense, since toys didn’t have as many rights as ‘pets’ did, apparently. Maybe she’s a little surprised Ansem let him pick out anything himself at all.

With their haul in tow, they head back towards the car. Ansem had gone to pick up all their bags, but Riku had snagged a few before he could decide otherwise. Stuffing everything in the back seat, “The next place we are stopping is very close, but I would like to drive.”

“Sun’s down, and it's your car,” Riku shrugs, moving to the passenger side. He sits down uncomfortably, the slicked metal never sitting right. Riku is somewhat surprised he doesn’t reach a hand over to keep teasing him, but he is preoccupied driving. They head down some darker streets before turning into another, smaller parking lot- one side is a Mcdonalds and a Starbucks, the other is…”... a sex shop…” Riku speaks weakily, but Ansem is already getting out of the car. He sighs dramatically to himself, but does get up and out.


End file.
